Jealousy
by maleV
Summary: Post-RE6. Chris and Piers are partners again, but its too good to be true. Nivanfield, PiersXJake, read the rating!
1. Chapter 1

Chris had grown fairly accustomed to shock and awe in his years in the B.S.A.A., there was nothing that could truly shock him any more. The death of an agent, wasn't surprising, even the death of one that had meant the complete salvation of Chris' character. In the line of work he seemed drawn to, it seemed that keeping people alive was not a requisite. He'd prepared himself, hardened himself for Piers' death. He'd stared into those beautiful hazel eyes, full of sadness and despair and pleaded for a chance to get his partner out; even passed that accepting small smile trapped on full lips that read as plain as day as the young man not intending on making it out. He'd known even then, reassuring his partner, that everything would all be infinitely alright, even though he knew pounding in his heart that there was no coming back from that transfiguration. His heart had wanted to believe it; wholeheartedly he wanted to believe it, but death had crawled deep inside the young man's soul the moment he injected himself with the C-virus. The needle punctured the torn and severed muscles in his skin had been the end of the end, transforming that magnificent man into nothing more of a husk that was capable of saving a man not worth saving. No shock was not something that still lived inside of the empty heart of Chris Redfield. At least that's what he'd thought until he'd set eyes on the young man opposite of him in the hospital quarantine of B.S.A.A. medical bunkers.

It was at that moment, that he had discovered that perhaps shock had left him, but awe had found a way to slowly creep itself back in little tiny increments, deep into Chris' soul. Piers Nivans had lived. They had recovered him, brought him back from the dead, resurrected there before him and Chris could hardly have believed his delusional yet sober eyes. Shock was still gone, so gone that it didn't register when Piers had come back to the B.S.A.A. He was too happy, too pleased to have his partner back, in one piece. In all the right pieces. The scars had faded, his body was still a mess of lines and dark marks that would never leave him. The amazing color of his right eye, silver and gold. Piers had always had golden flecks in those hazel eyes, but losing color in the other just fit him more perfectly. He was like a gift from God. The scars that ran along under his eyes, across his forehead and neck; most people saw scars that were incapable of healing, but Chris thought they became him. They were fitting for his person, like a beautiful canvas of the sea and someone spilled the sun across the corner in a brilliant understated color. There were times that Chris couldn't turn his eyes away from Piers, just remembering him for who he was. He'd never expected him to return to the man he had once been. But then, Piers was the unexpected. And then there was his arm. The thing he'd lost in the battle, the thing that had assured Chris there was no going back, that he couldn't return home. He was a B.O.W., they could never had accepted him back into the human race. And then there, there was no evidence. His flesh was darker, mottled tan in places, but no scarring, and it worked perfectly. Chris hadn't been shocked, God only knew what he could do with those fingers. They retained electric pulses from time to time, that seemed to discern the other men, but Chris never doubted him, not from the second he returned until now.

No Piers, though different physically than he'd ever been, was perfectly the same. At least in the field. Perhaps that's when Chris started to refeel shock. His partner was so like himself that it was amazing. That resolute, unyielding will to be the man at Chris' side. Broken and battered, and still so right. They fit together perfectly, at least that's what he'd thought until he saw the bruising. It wasn't a surprise, wasn't a shock, to see Piers out of sorts because once he was off the field he transformed into a quiet person who was fully conscious of the stares and wandering eyes that searched his face. Piers was almost like two different personalities. The first was his leadership, capable, strong, and persistent self that never thought twice on an order and was precise and built for this job. Who never considered himself on a mission or looked anything less than confident. He was worthy of a captain's title, even if he'd never take it. But then there was Piers once he stepped off the field. Once the pretense of battle was gone. He was almost shy. Of course it was obvious since they'd been partners before that that was a side effect of the scarring. Maybe that's why he hadn't wanted to say anything. Because Piers seemed so timid about himself while changing out of his uniform and into regulars. Other people wouldn't have thought those resolute eyes boring into the back of their locker, transfixed and refusing to meet any stares, or his perfectly knit brows would have meant shy, but Chris knew the sniper. He lived to observe people, not to be observed, and his refusal to look at people and meet their eyes was almost an admission of being self conscious of how he appeared.

That had been when he'd first noticed them. The marks on his shoulder when he'd pulled away the uniform and quickly went to replace the scarf around his neck. They'd looked like a dog had worried at the muscle for a long while and in places his skin was torn up. But then they were gone. That had shocked him. The idea of Piers being with hurt and not saying anything about it. But Chris knew the signs. Those marks weren't from battle, those were marks from a person. So for the first time in years Chris had felt the overwhelming surge of shock, and it left him reeling with the impulse to find whoever had done it and knock their teeth in. That was his partner's business though wasn't it? If he wanted to be involved in a relationship that left him that bruised then it was his business, not his captain's. Of course it had left him questioning how a guy like Piers had managed into a relationship with a girl who could do that kind of damage. Sure there was a lot of talk about how pretty Piers was. It was hard to ignore. It was a present to the rest of his company that the man was scarred now, otherwise he would outshine every one of them. There were a lot of implications that went around that his partner was switch hitting, but they hadn't seen Piers with girls. He knew how to work women without having to even say a word. Sure Chris had hoped at one point he'd had a chance, and he was still overly protective of him. But he had every reason to. Still it had to have been a girl, someone in the department maybe... It had been months though since the first time that he'd seen the marks, and they'd faded and gone again just like the scars on his arm tended to come and go whenever electricity would jump down the muscle and surge over him. They'd been on so many missions together it was like a well oiled machine. A beautiful perfect machine, and Chris enjoyed every second of it. Working in tandem with Piers, and he wouldn't lie that the doting fashion of the younger man was so endearing he almost forgot for a time that they weren't together, just partners. But of course, every few weeks there would be the return of those marks, and with them came those admonished and disgraced glances when anyone would stare, as though he'd been struck. He had, and quite literally so, but why should he be so self-conscious of them if they were a reoccurring and not completely unwanted thing, unless Piers didn't want them...

"Piers?" Chris was still in full military dress. Full tactical gear apart from his vest; everything else was still maintained and presented in its usual fashion, just simply put there, to observe his partner's end of the day rituals. He watched him every night when they finished, and every morning. Others might have thought it strange, but in all actuality it was a matter of survival. Yes, Chris liked his ace partner more than he should have had a right to, but it was his job to take care of him. It might have seemed like over kill, but it was just them. Chris leaned against the opposing lockers, rough fingers drumming heavily on empty metal, watching in the same silence they observed every night. He wasn't sure it was right to start saying anything now, but it was hard to keep quiet at all watching Piers and his under glorified perfection of a person without speaking.

"Hn."

Younger limbs were again fixated on removing and replacing that clothing as efficiently as time allowed, perfectly aware of his captain's roaming mahogany eyes. They never seemed to bother him, Chris had a tendency to watch over Piers ever since he'd returned to him from China. Piers liked feeling important about as much as Chris liked doting on him, so it seemed only natural the two of them talked about this finally anyway, not just out of pure jealousy of seeing the revealed skin that someone else had been given liberty to touch, and taken advantage. "I know we don't talk about it, but are you seeing someone?" He never wanted to ask that question, and as soon as he'd said it his was regretting his stupidity. Chris liked living in his personal fantasy land where it was just the captain and his partner,a dn sometimes he was certain that Piers shared that want too. They'd dropped using a team for the last few missions, it had merely required their sets of rather specialized skills, so it left him to be alone with the younger man for a time. He admired Piers' abilities with a rifle, and his observation was completely necessary in the field. Still he also enjoyed just having someone he trusted fully to have his back, someone he didn't just trust, but in fact someone he thought he would sooner give himself over to than see with anyone else. "We've known each other for five years and you've been my partner for four of those years. I don't think I've ever heard you talk about seeing someone." It was odd, but it was evident he had been. Everyone had needs, maybe it was just a want to be more involved with his partner outside of work. They couldn't be involved, they were partners, but that didn't mean Chris couldn't be involved with him in other areas of life. There was a quiet shifting of clothing, and Piers stopped moving, his arms pretzaled over the top of his head, holding a shirt that was about to be yanked down to claim him before dropping into his lap, humming silently which the shirt still bunched against his forearms. "I mean... if there is anyone waiting for you back home?" The question kind of hung in the air between them while Chris examined the staining on his skin of dark bruising fingertips that spread across the blade of his shoulder. It didn't appear to off-put him, or make him uncomfortable, didn't shift of get scared in his skin like when others spoke to him off the field, which made Chris pleased. Just seemed to contemplate it as though there were a complicated answer, canting his head to the side and considering the back wall of the steel box holding his few personal effects. Whilst the silence hushed over them, Chris stopped his drumming, slipping them quickly into his deep fatigue pockets, nervous for the answer.

"No. I guess not. I haven't really thought about it to tell you the truth. How about you captain?"

"No one at home but my sister, and that's when we aren't at ends. We don't get along as much as we use to since I started working again. I haven't seen her in a month, I think she's staying with Leon now. That aside, no one waits up for me. But what on earth do you mean by you guess not? Piers its not like a trick question, how can you guess not?" What had he meant by no? How could it have been no with the prolonged existence of those bruises that riddled his ribs, it wasn't like he was doing it himself. Still, dodging the answer had made one thing obvious, Piers didn't wasn't proud of those purpling blotches.

"I don't know... you asked if there's someone waiting up for me. There isn't. I guess it all depends on what you mean by relationship." He tipped his head over his shoulder, looking back at Chris who was studying the planes of his back with thick furrowed brows; analyzing the lash mark of raw red flesh that yawned across his lower back, diving below the fatigues that hugged his waist. Rough fingers were stroking the stubble growing on his jawline again, scratching sounds the only noise between them while he examined them. Piers tone suggested that he was calm, the soothing tenor, washing over Chris no matter the words being said. "Those aren't really your business, are they captain?" Those words weren't malicious about it, or condescending, but still it was a bit obvious the younger man was more curious about why Chris should care now, or it was something else hidden there. A silver full moon eye met Chris' chocolate brown orbs and held him there a few long minutes before a lopsided smile greeted older worn features, shaking briefly back and forth before nodding in direction to the marks that seemed to have faded during their last mission, pressing the matter of if there was no one, where had all those come from. There was no need to talk between them honestly, not to ask the question. Military men like these had spent their lives learning each others mannerisms, and with that level of comfort with one another, it made ease come without difficulty in the field of communication. Shockingly though the moment he pressed the matter it had tan calm features twist almost flush at his insistence. Fortitude had not withstood the scrutiny of his mottled skin; scars at the juncture of his shoulder and the spidering scarring that stretched over his back at the place where Haos had ruined his arm, up and along his muscled neck. At least it had been ruined until C-Virus had done its one good thing and replaced the arm. His sudden self consciousness caused Chris' bulk to tense, flexing his arms reflexively across his chest and twitching in defense before admiring a taut beige shirt quickly replaced over that once smooth torso along with the looseness of his scarf that hid his marks from prying eyes, and the locker was shut over with a loud pang. Was he afraid of answering him, or afraid of the answer itself? "I don't want to talk about it Captain." The quickness of his response echoed his command within the unit, and yet there was that little tinge of something hidden there, a fear he'd remembered from their days in China. Chris whole body ached hearing that defeated fear, quickly fleeting him and finding the door. "I'll see you in the morning captain."

Was his partner actually hiding a relationship from him just because he was embarrassed about a little rough housing? I mean Chris had done his fair share in the past, it wasn't like it was uncommon with military men to seek out that kind of behavior. No it had seemed like more than that. He wasn't just hiding a relationship, Piers never lied. Was he uncomfortable with himself? Or was Chris just pushing the enevelope when it came to their professionalism? Still he hadn't balked until Chris had pushed the matter pertaining to his marks. Maybe he wasn't in a relationship, maybe it was less than that but more physical. Whatever the case was, Piers wasn't afraid of much of anything, talking to Chris shouldn't have made him that uncomfortable. No... They were going to have to talk about this later. Telling yourself that it was just normal for the sniper had worked for the last few weeks was one thing, but that welt raised on his back hadn't been the first, and certainly wasn't the least painful looking. That was disregarding the ones across his thighs that he hadn't failed to notice while the ace slipped out of fatigues and into his street clothes. No one had a right to cause Piers that level of worry, least of all one he didn't even consider himself in a relationship with. No, he could fix this, and he could help his partner. Even if meant just getting him to open up about those marks. He hadn't said it before hand, it hadn't been his business, but they just seemed to get worse and more frequent. It wasn't in Chris' nature to back down, particularly... if someone was hurting the man he considered his own.

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**Sorry I haven't updated as quickly as usual. I've had a lot of home stuff and this was a suggestion that actually made my mind move. Have no fear everything else is still on track an I still have every intention of writing. Nivanfield is my unhealthy little outlet. **

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy. You never know what could happen. And in the words of my reviewer. Piers, why you such a masochist! I love it too much. Wonder who it could be...  
**


	2. Chapter 2

"You stupid ass son of a bitch..." Chris swore adamantly although silently, electricity jumping over his flesh while slowly peeling the layers biege uniform off his partner's unconscious form, flicking open buttons. There were fangs of white sparks biting into every inch of Piers' body, coursing into the hands of Chris while he fought with convulsing muscles, grimaces and moans escaping pouted lips every time he tugged at the body to free it from the B.S.A.A. standard issue uniform he was clothed in, searching for the source of blood. They had been on a snatch and grab mission that almost counted as relaxed only a few hours ago and now his partner was shaking like a leaf, convulsing with every surge that nibbled into his skin. Chris had already had a long enough day, no a long enough week, after their run in in the locker room, without all of this now causing problems. There was a significant amount of blood that the captain hadn't even noticed until he'd pulled off the flak jacket from an unconscious form, answering for him over why his partner was now laying useless on the ground with his eyes rolled up in his head.

Chris hadn't brought up the injuries from the locker room next day, or the day after, or the day after that, however that also left him required to ask him now that they were compromising him. His partner made it painfully clear he didn't want Chris asking him about the marks on his back by coming in to work in full gear the next week so that Chris didn't have the opportunity to observe the injuries inflicted, however that also left him staring relentlessly at the sniper's body throughout training the recruits the next day. He had been using the excuse of watching over Piers every morning and night as a way of making certain he was safe, but it also lasted him the day in not looking like a complete stalker in the field. In return, the captain had been more than ecstatic to receive mission orders for the duo two mornings ago, because it relieved him of pretense and obligation regarding anything but the mission, and gave him some time alone to think with Piers in his usual manner. On top of that he couldn't run away from him on mission when Chris would decide to bring up the obviously uncomfortable question. In this instance however he would have had to simply have to lie back and take it while Chris questioned him now that it was intruding on their business. That was, once he woke up after this incident, he'd been unconscious like this for near twenty minutes.

Before this he had been viewing his partner scoping out their target from two miles out, lying prone on his abdomen, his weight propped on his left leg and hip, his fingers gently running up and down the scope of his anti-material rifle, poised at the ready. Problem being that he was pushing his gorgeous backside up and Chris had nothing to do but stare at Piers, staring at their target most the morning. It made what he was doing now more uncomfortable than it should have been, but he couldn't look at his partner without thinking about it now, even with all the blood and electricity sparking. The sparks hurt less than Chris would have imagined, and rather they were dancing over him and causing his need to strain more grievously in his own fatigues, while tearing his knife through the wife beater that was left, wrenching it free.

Piers never allowed this disability to stop him from doing his job, never once, still here they were holding up at their hand made little base camp riding out seizures together. He was aware, when the doctor's had informed him, that Piers would suffer chronically from the electrical impulses of that mutated he had been able to control. There was were times where it was more obscure than others that Piers was in considerable pain, he hid it very well. In actuality, Chris had demanded Headquarters not divulge his condition to the other men of Alpha team so that others wouldn't look at him as incompetent in the field. Still though he was aware of the side effects it had on his partner, it had never made a difference how Piers acted in the field, and whenever he thought it might the younger man carried it with grace. It was a surprise to see the kind of resistance he'd put up, because Chris hadn't even noticed his pain until the man had collapsed on him at the end of their mission, and the contact immediately transferred the shocks of fire over his own skin, causing a tight drawn line in his lips to part and permit a yelp of distress while he caught the man under his arms.

"Look at your goddamn shoulders, what the hell happened to you huh? You didn't say a damn thing over the com about being injured." Chris swore incredulously, watching Piers eyes roll around from the pain coursing through him, moaning as the final layer of clothing was peeled off in strips from his lithe, robust torso. The talking was mainly for his own sake, he needed to say something while maneuvering the other in his arms, to take his mind off all the blood so that he wouldn't vex too much over it and make a mistake. He was pleased however, for the fortuitous chance to admire the smattering of scars that he had gotten so use to over the last few months. He played his fingers along the marred flesh that lanced his shoulder junction, enjoying the sparks that licked his fingers while he searched the smooth chest, prepared to turn him and check his back where he was most as like to find the source of the dark stick substance. Now wasn't the time to be admiring his partner's flesh, but it was such an exotic feeling to finally get to touch him. Not to mention all the oddity of having his subordinate arching up in his lap every time a wave of shocks would crash over him causing a long stream of grimaced moans and whimpers to come over him. Chris' head was canted to the side, watching the rhythmic breathing punctuated by stuttered gasps every so often, expanding his chest to his tapered waist, rolling him against his own thick middle to peer over his back, feeling spitting electric dancing over his tactical vest and lap straight to his groin. "You should have said something you beautiful moron."

It had been a simple enough extraction, and the amount of men wasn't concerning, Piers had dealt with more in his years with the B.S.A.A. and certainly with more dangerous people. Nodding it off, Chris had let him go in alone, splitting up halfway there so that he could clear out the gatehouse, set up their exit strategy while Piers extracted their target. There was a car for them set up down the road from the local government that had hired them, as a drop for the guy, so as soon as they were out and had him they should only have had to keep hold of their man for just a few minutes, eighteen by Nivans calculations. That's if everything had gone perfectly according to plan, which within twelve minutes was painfully obvious that it hadn't when the sniper's voice voice came from over the radio set changing their plans up as well as their escape route. When they'd eventually arrived and dropped the man off with their agents, twenty minutes late, they'd caught no grief, but as soon as the mission had been completed, car gone, Piers had collapsed.

There was blood adhering from his shirt to his torso and his fingers were continually clenching regularly on the hand that had been torn apart in China. It was painfully obvious the problem wasn't just the shocks though, Piers had been dealing with these since he had returned to work. No, this was from one of the freshly received injuries that was inflicted on his person. No, Chris wasn't taking no for an answer anymore, not once this kid woke up from his currant state. These two were going to have a talk about this. Surges of electricity gnawed Chris' hands, prying and prodding the marks on his body searching for the source of his blood among the purpled and abused visage, newly acquired injuries raised, welts and cracked and peeling skin. "You went through that whole mission like this? Piers, you have to say something... I know you don't like it when you can't do something, but you're not invis... Piers?" His voice turned softer as he watched the younger man shaking under his grip and the waves of electricity came off him, fighting back a grimace that had turned swiftly into sound so akin to the noises he'd envisioned his partner making only in Chris' dreams, rolling him back onto his back in his lap. Gasping out at the shifting of his weight, it converted to a moan, Piers trying to wrenching away from him instinctively yet unconscious, the blood oozing and spreading over the blades of his shoulder, revealing the slice down his spine that had apparently ripped open when the seizures had started.

Chris sighed, watching the younger man, shaking his head. He'd seen this happen before, even if Piers wasn't aware. There were times when the younger man couldn't hold back the convulsions of electric waves that stole over him. He'd shut himself up and watch his entire body shaking in a kind of mixture between agony and pleasure. Seeing it up close the, touching him while the waves slowly ceased, was exhilarating, gripping muscled hips to hold him still. If he wasn't in such a compromised position Chris might have considered taking advantage of the evidence of the pleasure of it was having on his partner. The skin under his calloused hands was tingling , sweat running over his brow as muscles contracted; body and arms shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind. He'd ask him in a while when he came conscious again about these marks once and for all. He was covered in bites, scratches, and welts that rose off his back, including the slice down the middle of his spine that was what had been the cause of the bleed, which was already cauterizing shut from the electricity. Now that he knew, he didn't have to worry, and at this moment it was the moans that escaped his mouth every now and again that was distracting him; Piers pawing silently at Chris' chest. God he was beautiful like that, no wonder he hadn't wanted to admit to enjoying this. It was painfully apparent that his partner enjoyed a certain amount of pain the way his body was reacting and covered in goosebumps now that the convulsions were receding from him. Still those injuries from whoever caused it weren't pleasurable little love bites, they were literal bites meant to damage skin and force distress. Piers reported every injury in the field, so he knew why he hadn't said anything about having an injury this deep inhibiting his choices. It had Chris fighting the impulse to give his partner 3rd degree on his extra curriculars getting in the way of their missions.

Rough hands trailed down the exhausted body in his arms, letting fingers stray and examine the damage and the method of how they'd arrived. These could only have been done by another man, and it sent fury through him hearing his own thoughts on the matter. He'd been wrong that he hadn't had a chance with his partner, which was even more infuriating. Tough callouses caught on the lip of fatigues, brushing over the front of them to feel the evidence of arousal, his own kicking painfully as a reminder of how this was effecting him. The electricity was exciting, and the jolts moved over his body and sent lust pooling in his groin every time Piers gasped, nuzzling his thigh with his face. "Damn you Piers..." He groaned, watching the younger man gasp in air, grinding his hips into Chris' hands, watching him. Gripping the disappearing marks on his hips, he felt the younger man nearly whimpering against his muscled thighs, flush breaking out over his face while he fought to not to moan as Chris gripped him harder. Finally he slipped Piers out of his lap, keeping grip on his hips, watching the goosebumps break out over sweat slick flesh, letting himself get involved with the unconscious form his partner offered, begging as Chris' lips ghosted over the scars on his shoulders, kissing each of the lines like maps, bring high pitched gasps from his partner and causing Chris to work harder to bring the burdened body pleasure. He was arching up into him, openly moaning now as experienced lips suckled at his collar. The older man couldn't help but seek out the marks and scars, teasing them happily until those soft pouted lips finally formed the name that froze Chris instantly, causing the want inside him to curl up and hatred course through him, huge biceps flexing and pounding a fist into the ground.

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**Oh goodness... Piers you are a bundle of trouble. Chris you shouldn't have doubted yourself. We'll meet mister unlucky next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

Muller. Fucking Jake, fucking Muller?! He had to be kidding. Those perfect beautiful noises that played off Piers tongue and brought such color to his face, while Chris had been so close to giving in, were made for Wesker's son!? They didn't even get along in any capacity. Piers in fact had an openly pronounced hateful spite for Jake's type, he'd made mention of trying to kill him twice. Chris had literlaly had to stop him from shooting Jake on more than one occasion. On top of that wasn't Jake dating Sherry Birkin, didn't that bother either of them? Or was Sherry as completely oblivious that her boyfriend was beating his partner senseless at night as the captain had been. How could he have been so naive about it all when he was the one who spent every waking moment with Piers at his side. Gods, Chris couldn't even say anything this stupid revelation to him because that meant he'd have to admit to having had pried it out of him by sucking on his scars without the younger man even knowing. Sexual harassment much Redfield? He hadn't spoken on it, couldn't say anything before the young man was awake and practically in tears over his pathetic failure in the line of duty. Just watching as Piers stammered and apologized extravagantly over having collapsed after the mission was hard enough to do. All he'd really wanted to do was comfort him, tell him everything would be okay and that he was in love with him, so none of it mattered. In actuality he had just caught him by the arms and brushed the sweat off his brow before telling him nothing happened and to not be embarrassed over being in pain. It was awkward yes, knowing something his partner didn't know he'd already divulged to him, but they had returned to their silent little way of communication with one another, and Piers' gratitude was evidence enough to know how hard it had been to admit his weakness. Piers apology to Chris was basically allowing them to return to the status quo, back to their silent bubble in life where only they lived and breathed, acted in unison as a true partnership. That was until it was time to go home and the bubble popped, reminding the soldier there was no relationship between them, merely employer and employee, no matter what Chris wanted. It pleased Chris yes, that they got to go back to pretending he was all of Piers' life and that the younger man lived and breathed for his captain, but Jake Muller!? It just made everything harder to do. Every time Piers would say captain tha special way that made everything go to Chris' head was made more difficult at the envisioned phantoms of it being Jake that was on the receiving end. It was all the harder seeing the injuries on him that were appearing to worsen week by week and not just spout off how appalling it was. Even harder to not just claim Piers as his own and smother his pillowy damaged lips with his own and telling him that Jake no longer had rights to that gorgeous frame before owning him against that locker that he was always staring into rather than meeting anyone's eyes.

Was it strange that he was stalking his partner? The idea of just throwing him under the bus about what had happened was too painful, so now he was instead of asking him about all this, just stalking him. The way he'd begun stammering his excuses while trying to explain the seizures even though Chris already knew about them, practically begging his captain not to turn him in to to HQ for his mistakes was painful enough to deal with without the overbearing guilt of having to reveal the secrets of how he found out. He never thought he'd seen Piers Nivans so at a loss for words or completely helpless. Asking him about the relationship would have only made it worse between their partnership and as much as he wanted Jake's body floating in parts in separate rivers, he didn't want anything to do with hurting Piers. He would wait, see it for himself, and if need be, kill the son of a bitch for ever laying a hand on him. It was easier this way and keeping plausible deniablility on his side for in case he had to admit what he knew. This way if he merely saw them together he could confront him without so much impending fear that could unwind Piers like a ball of string. So what if Piers liked pain, there was a right and a wrong way to deal with it and taking advantage of a half broken man like Jake was doing was every kind of wrong, not to mention that just the idea of Wesker's kid laying his hands on his partner was like the idea of Wesker and Jill, which drove Chris half mad.

He didn't have to wait long though. Officially it took all of three weeks. He'd started keeping Piers longer every day just in an effort of keeping him from having to go back to the kinds of things Jake had in store for him, and asked him a couple of times to stay over and work on some things with him. They'd wound up sleeping in Chris' office a few times that week and as uncomfortable as that was it was to not just take the chance and admit his feelings for the younger man, at least safe. On top of all that the tawny haired kid didn't seem much to mind about all the extra attention, and instead relished in it and doted on Chris instantly when given the opportunity to show him he could stand up to any challenge. It obviously didn't please his partner's lover much not to have the sniper ace coming home at the end of the day though because it was only two weeks of that sort of thing before Jake was at the range with them, standing all arms over the chest and bothered watching Chris watch over him, while the older hulk of a man intentionally made an effort to keep himself between the two. Jake didn't seem to care, at least not then, just observing him cautiously and every time that Piers spoke so dutifully to his captain, eyes carelessly flicking over to them before back to Sherry who was there with him as well, happily using the range and talking like a chickadee with Jill about how everything was. He appeared to be every man the he use to be and no different, not overly giving attention to any one thing. It left him standing there like the cock sure bastard he was, to be made all the more uncomfortable with the awkward stares that he was renown for giving. Jake played well with those emotions and merely appeared bored as hell instead of annoyed by every touch Chris put on Piers' lower back as he shot. Chris couldn't say he didn't find it wholly amusing to play off Jake's emotions, but he couldn't say anything to Wesker's boy, nothing to him without implicating his partner having revealed a relationship. He'd strangle that for-hire jackass, as soon as he knew this wasn't something Piers actually really wanted, but until then, he was at liberty to make Jake see evidently he wasn't the only one with an eye for Piers. He knew it couldn't have been consensual, not with the damage that was being caused to him as of late, the grimaces they caused while even trying to change let alone the pain he was experiencing in the field. No, he had to stand there and watch Jake not watch Piers, and all it implied. Maybe he was just paranoid and Piers had just said the name out of fantasy, though that just infuriated him more. Piers wanting Jake was almost as hurtful and him not wanting Chris. It was almost a relief to think it was an involuntary relationship.

The myth was almost that much until Chris noted the instant that Piers saw the skin head from across the room that he almost dropped his rifle clean out of his grip. "I have to step out Captain. Sorry..." And like that his ghost sniper had used every skill in the book to completely disappear out from under Chris' nose. It was relieving in a way to know he could still do that. Disappear in a crowd even though Pier was magnetically drawn to him. At least that much of their relationship still survived China, and Piers had lost none of his skills. Jake however, didn't have those skills, only the obvious little head bob when he noted the young ace's disappearance and moved to leave himself, rounding the corner he'd been leaned by. Yelling something derogatory at Sherry made her laugh and wave him off as though it was no big deal. If he'd been Sherry he wouldn't have expected it either, Jake was honestly a pain in the ass all the time, so why on earth would anyone suspect his usual behavior of actually being suspicious. He found Jake easy enough though, he had the muddiest boots on the planet, following him with all the grace that his position allowed him within the department, stopping in the other room and leaning against the lockers, closing his eyes to discern voices from one another. Pier's had a soft tenor voice that he could pull out of a crowded room, and then Jake had that short cut bothered tone that was so close to being grating, and it was his he heard first, though it was evident they'd already been talking.

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"Since when have you ever made me come looking for you Nivans."

"What are you doing here Jake?" There was force behind those words, as much as he used with rookies who didn't know their place and it relieved Chris a bit to think his partner had the gull to at least defend himself in a situation with Jake. At least somewhat, or it had been the left over adrenaline from being here at the range. "Its called a job, maybe you should get one." It wasn't demanding, but it was quickly tapering from Piers normal short tone with people that pissed him off, to something a bit more subtle. No that was his I'm horrified that you are here, mortification slipping into every word and dropping his tone to a near whisper almost all instantaneously when it became evident he wasn't talking to some junior rookie who just joined the corp. Years of training had taught the captain to literally hear the way he stepped back with each word, finding the need to hear this over the need to pound Jake to a bloody pulp. "I've been busy. Since when do you care what I do at work?"

"I don't. Just _who _you are doing at work. Since when has stuck up captain Redfield ever kept you over night, hm? I thought your daddy was all about getting you home on time in case you decided to turn into a mutant ball of fun. Isn't he all worried about making sure you get rest since you are fucking wreck? Or are you starting to shell out for him too and that's why you aren't coming home at night. Can't say I wasn't surprised seeing him eye you like that, for a minute there I thought you liked how he was getting a good feel. What did you do, give him a cock tease he can't forget? Because I know that you aren't fucking him... I'd be able to tell, remember. I can always tell. Or are you forgetting who came to who you fucking little fag." Jake stepped closer as he spoke each thing, his pitch lowering dramatically while he examined the response to his accusation to prove its validity. Tilting his head at the way Piers winced and look away from him, he was obviously pleased to illicit a reaction that proved he'd hit so close to home without it being true. Piers was already struggling internally with even having put up a decent verbal fight with him. It only caused that smug grin to slip over the violent drawn features, replacing the once sardonic humor with ill tempered venom. It resembled Wesker in so many fashions that if Piers hadn't know anything about the paternal surrogate that he could have drawn a picture of him just by looking at his son as he stepped closer across the room. "Puppy worried his master is going to beat him again?" He didn't even feign concern, slipping a hand up lazily yet deliberately beside Piers' head, fingers half curled against the wall, so that a hazel orb could watch the physical restraint before the other found his bicep, fingers digging deep into the already weathered muscle while he brought his scarred face within inches of the other man. He knew where all the bruises were, he'd mapped them out when he put them there, and evidently was pleased at the gasp of a pain that slipped passed battered lips before they quickly drew closed. "What's the matter puppy...?" Crass tenor turned sickeningly sweet, mockery lacing every word. "Forgot how good it hurts?"

"Jake... please. Not here." Piers voice was a whimper, caught off before he could say anything more by teeth clashing together in a mix of pain and pleasure while Jake forced his mouth over pouted lips. Taking every complaint and throwing them out the window. He was swallowing the mix of pained moans, but he loved hearing them, breaking off their kiss to watch the way Piers tried to shamefully hide from those scrutinizing eyes while he drilled his nails into already raw tissue, his body shuttering and shirking back into the wall as far as he could.

It was cut off against by the other hand slipping around Piers jaw, forearms flexing while grip tightened like a vice to tip his face back to the other side, revealing the scars that lined his once flawless features, and the silver of his eye. Roughly, a tough pad drew on the dark scar that ran horizonatally under Piers' right orb, digging his nail along with it until the fresh tissue was red again from abuse. "You don't fucking deserve me you know that? Sure as hell know I could get everything I want from Sherry and never think about you another second. You should feel lucky, think that anyone else could ever want this? Have you looked in a damn mirror lately. I might have a scar on my face, but you are fucking Frankenstein's little pet and he butchered putting you back together. You want to play pretend here with your daddy who makes you feel all good inside but spends every second staring at you like the piece of shit you are, be my guest? Is that what you want? Everyone staring at you? Because you know they are. Sure yeah, you are just another soldier... right," Jake snarled, running his tongue over the scar, letting Piers watch him and feel helpless against how much stronger Jake was. They were roughly the same size, but Jake Muller possessed physical prowess that sometimes he doubted anyone could have matched but Albert Wesker. "An every day soldier that spouts bursts of electric teeth that bite you so damn hard that you cry out until you can't fucking take it any more. Anyone else going to want to fuck that while your twisting and writhing? So normal aren't you. Sure you were a looker but now? And on top of that does anyone else know how their good boy likes getting dirty? They know about your arm too? Maybe I should tell them..."

"No!" Jake had made to let go, turning his back to the mess of a person he'd created, but Piers caught him, one hand clasped so tight into the material of the merc's shirt that it tightened the collar and strained against the straps of his suspenders, as he desperately yanked him back, pulling them together and pushing his lips against the other's in a miserable attempt at submission. It was obvious he never would have done it, it was just another step in the control he exhibited over the sniper, making him show how badly he needed to have this. There were secrets on the line with Jake, he couldn't have backed out if he wanted to, so instead he had to apologize, beg. Chris would have stepped in earlier but he'd been frozen in place just hearing the soft breaths turning to fearful whimpers while Jake spoke and all the things he hadn't known even though this asshole did. The kiss said it all, need and fear wrapped in one, while silver and hazel eyes snapped shut and clenched so tight they leaked tears, all which drastically changed speed when Jake had had enough of the soft pillowy lips pressed to his own and instead grabbed a handful of hair and jerked back his head with a loud bang against the lockers, the other finally removing from the worried bicep muscle to give a savage yank and choke air from a scarred neck with his sniper's scarf. By the time he'd managed to unwrap it from around his throat, Jake was tearing at the tan flesh with his teeth so hard it was bleeding, the material torn in his hands, smashed between the two of them while he buried his thumb into his hip muscles. Piers was biting his own lip before he felt humiliation wash over him, melting into Jake's malevolence. Muller was a wild animal and flipped on a dime whenever overpowering need took him, he was tearing away and unzipping his pants when Chris' hand wrenched him halfway across the room and into a set of lockers that rocked with the force of it. "Chris?!"

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**I believe oh shit is the appropriate reaction... For the record I got three people asking me for Jake over the last few days, so! If you were hoping for someone else you should have said so!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Muller I'm going to take your fucking head off." Chris' bellow was loud enough to shake the room, rage replacing every fiber of restraint and throwing all caution to the wind as he took after Jake like a bear. His fist followed his words without stalling, meeting only locker metal and bending the entire front of it around his fist with the force he had mustered, so much of it in fact, that colliding with it made that entire set of middle lockers rock back until they came careening into the next like dominoes of blue dinted metal, only stopped by the concrete enforced wall. Piers had lurched forward to grab at his captain, but it was evident even with his abilities at hand to hand confrontation there was no fighting Chris at this point. Easily tosing the younger man aside. Though in honesty he was more concerned about his captain getting round housed by Jake who had twisted out of his grip and jumped backward toward the door frame, fists up.

"Yeah right Redfield, you don't even know what the fuck you saw, so back off. How about I knock your damn head off since you don't know how to stay out of other people's business." Chris was immediately on him, the two of them dodging swings and throwing back ones that could have knocked normal people out cold. Jake was permitting it, Piers could see it even from there. He was fast and steady on his feet, where Chris was just pissed off to a state where reason was gone. He could probably snap his neck if he could catch him, but the circus boy form hell had far better agility in tight spaces like this. He heard a snap of knuckles crashing into flesh and bone, Chris reeling after smashing his fist clean into cheek bone, Jake retaliating with a foot that crushed into Chris' broad barrel chest. Blood crying from the wound that Chris had caused, but the far younger man was still steady on his feet. He was leading Chris on until the inevitable would happen and it did, letting him catch him just in time to hear exactly what the manipulative bastard had been looking for.

"Oh my gosh CHRIS! Get your hands off him!" Sherry's shrill voice knocked over every person in the room, literally throwing them apart with the anger that flashed in her usually soft features. "I can't believe you! He hasn't done anything to you Chris, just leave him alone." Jake let the smugness wash over him as Chris looked between the two, unwilling to bring Sherry into the argument that had transpired. This wasn't something the world needed to know about. When Sherry found out about Jake's infidelity it wouldn't be by telling her he'd seen him almost fuck his partner into the lockers. She didn't need that and after what he'd just heard, the things Jake was willing to say if Piers wanted out, he couldn't let a D.C. officer know about those. Not about the electricity and how he was still classified as a B.O.W. if he couldn't control the seizures. "Why can't you stop for once and let the past be the past." Oblivious little girl was coddling Jake almost, crossing the room and putting her hands on his face briefly to check the broken skin on his almost destroyed cheekbone. Chris had got him that time, and it was victory watching his little girl worrying after the injury like he was some invalid. Smug as he was it made Chris even happier to get a chance to see where all that anger had come from that he was taking out on Piers. He had a mommy for a girlfriend and it wasn't enough for him.

"He had it coming."

"Oh yeah? How's that Chris? Because he happens to share half a chromosome with Albert? Does that make me a psychopathic virologist too? You forget my parents were also in on that. We aren't our parents Chris. I can't believe you still blame him for all of this. China was almost a year ago, can't we just get over it already?!"

"He's just mad because he thinks I've been sleeping with his shelter dog there. Trust me Redfield, I don't care what gets put up your buttpuppet's mancunt. It sure as hell wasn't me. Go ahead, ask him!" Jake snickered, shooting Piers a look but it was wiped off his face with a resounding smack, a pink handprint raising on his already injured cheek that Sherry had been furiously doting over. "What the He-!

"Don't talk about Piers like that. I swear sometimes you act like a two year old Jake. No wonder Chris tried to hit you...

The voices died out in Chris' ears, not honestly caring what Sherry and her twat of a boyfriend were jabbering on, only watching the young sniper ace heaving his stomach up in either fear or mortification while he reeled against the lockers before bolting, disappearing out the door as fast as Sherry had appeared. No one seemed to give a shit about how his partner was bolting like a rabbit, the other two still warring while Chris shoved between them cramming passed Jake's arms and the entanglement of limbs and running after Piers. Chris would have loved to stick around and watch Jake's mommy tear him a new one for his vulgar little proclivities and he'd explain the lockers to Jill later. His chest hurt seeing Piers vanish like that, tripping over himself as he tore away down the hall. Sherry probably retaliated about having Chris walk out on the conversation but screw her and her son-of-a-bitch boyfriend, he had bigger things to worry about than their marital disputes, like his partner's health. "Piers!" He was fast, always had been, almost like a jack rabbit being chased down a hole, and once he'd ripped a corner before Chris he was gone from sight. There were too many halls to pick from, but he knew where Piers would go. He might have been fast, but he was predictable, because Chris knew him better than anyone. Chris took the other hall and ran, cutting him off on his way to the parking garage where he kept his pretty little mustang he'd been fixing up for the last few years. Words would have been wasted, he knew it, and instead just grabbed hold of Piers who went to dodge him, avoiding the mauled muscle in his right arm and grabbing him swiftly around the middle so he couldn't bolt, feeling he shocks of electricity the moment their bodies met. "Piers, you can't... why didn't you tell me about this huh?" His body stiffened just like a board in Chris' arms, apart from the quivering his muscles were doing, and the humiliation written on his face as he stared at their shoes, refusing to meet Chris' eyes.

"How could I tell you? Look what just happened Chris? You almost killed him in there because you saw him what? Kiss me?" Was he really going to pull denial on this? Chris knew it was hard admitting what had just happened, but there was no way he was about to defend this bastard. But before he could fight back he was cut off by a near tear stricken face and glowering eyes, glowing in the light of the over heads of the parking garage, his gold flecks in his eyes shimmering from the glossiness and ambient lighting. "That was none of your business Chris. I already told you that. Did I look like I didn't want that? I'm the one that kissed him, not the other way around. I started this, its my business if I want to end it, not yours. You don't know anything about this. Sherry is his girlfriend. You want me to say it? Fine. He's dating Sherry and I'm just some fucking on the side fling. Are you happy now?!" Piers tried pulling away, but after the testosterone induced war between Jake and Chris it was near impossible. the muscles on Chris' arms tightening his hold on Piers as the younger man fought to maintain control, wracked with almost an entire bolt of lightning that jerked through him and into Chris.

"Happy?! Piers you honestly think I'm that stupid? How would I ever be happy knowing that bastard is laying his hands on you? I don't care who started it, I'm not blind. He's hurting you!"

"I'm a train wreck Chris! Take a good look would you?! I'm a bio-bioweapon! My body can't be controlled, I have electric seizures, I've passed out in the field. I'm useless. Not to mention the scars and mismatched eyes. I mean you can't walk through the base without attracting attention because I'm with you. I should just let HQ-

"Shut up! Piers just shut up!" Chris caught Piers' mouth with his own. Salty tears mingling between their lips. Chris was waiting for him to pull back, yank away, anything, but was pleased that the younger man leaned in just enough to prove that he wasn't completely unwanted. Catching his arms and catching Piers in his arms like a bear hug, holding him so tightly he might have crushed him until the electricity subsided, but only the electric coming from Piers body, the shock between them wasn't at all ruined Chris deepening the kiss against those pouted lips that made his stomach tighten as he felt his partner relaxing in his arms until finally he'd melted into Chris. His body seemed smaller than it really was in his arms, loosing his grip on his taut back and letting his rough gunner's gloves scrap along and catch fabric until the they rested on his slender hips. "Come on Piers... lets get you cleaned up alright?" Piers looked up as Chris parted their lips, pulling back and the faint traces of a smile came over his features, Chris wiping away a tear from his partner's face. "Come on." There was a brief nod and Chris finally let him go, watching his right hand immediately clench shut, the muscles in his bicep so taut that they almost looked about to split, Chris hoping to shake away the growing feeling of concern while urging his partner to follow him.

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**Quick but I am on a writing spree and this story gets less attention, sorry!**


	5. Chapter 5

A day had passed since the kiss in the parking garage..., technically 12 hours, and Chris was both confused and happier than ever, though he couldn't exactly explain why. What happened was between him and his partner, they crossed the line of their partnership in one quick, maybe even stupid, move, but it was completely unforgettable. Chris wouldn't have taken back that kiss if it meant to save their relationship, even though now it might have meant destroying it. There was no fraternizing in the S.O.U., particularly pertaining to in unit relationships, meaning Chris had broken regulations just putting his arms around Piers the way he had, not to mention all the laws broken when their lips had met. But they needed it, they both did. Admitting what had happened between them, was a long time coming. Piers had literally killed himself for his captain all that time ago in China, there was no turning back the clock and saying it was anything else. Sacrificing your life for another person, another man, the way the younger soldier had took heart, the heart to admit what Chris hadn't been able to for years. And he'd stopped him, Piers had stood there, in agony fighting back the virus inside his body, Chris clutching at him to keep his sanity and he'd tried. Admitting how he felt in a dying moment when he was certain he'd die, just taking the time to tell Chris something like that, and he'd stopped him. He would never know what Piers was going to say that day, or what he'd stopped himself from saying when that knowing, apologetic smile crossed damaged mutated flesh and merely shook his head as Chris' pod flew through the shoot and tore them apart from one another. But Chris was willing now. Their lips had met and electricity had sparked, and every good reason for not telling Piers how he felt flew out the window and were beaten down to nothingness by the overpowering reminder that he owed it to that twenty-seven year old hero to at least tell him how he felt. To admit his feelings and let Piers decide what he would. So he'd come in earlier than usual knowing that Piers would be there, in the busted up locker room, arms crossed over his chest and impatiently tapping his foot. In three minutes he'd walk through that door like he always; setting up like always. Chris drummed thick fingers on his impossibly thicker bulging forearms, rocking his weight against the lockers just to create a little noise apart from his own breathing; impatiently considering what he might say to break the ice between them and discuss what had happened. Piers hadn't said the rest of the day; Jill had sent them all home for the day because of the fight between Muller and himself, but only after Chris had sat his partner down and cleaned him up from the days events. They didn't speak, just, moved. Chris washing away the guilt that covered that tan skin and giving him a reassuring smile before they'd been let go.

Glancing uncomfortably up at the clock he huffed. Five minutes passed..., the younger man nowhere to be seen. It was unusual. He was always early. After yesterday it shouldn't be cause for alarm what-so-ever, just because he was decidedly running late didn't mean anything. He'd been late approximately six times, Chris could count it on two hands in four years. Besides, Piers late was everyone else's early. It was understandable Piers needed a break; if he was going to come in right on time then it was alright with him... Thirty minutes pass... It wasn't until five minutes after training for the new recruits began that Chris started to worry. His young partner was never late, late. He wasn't sick either, the young man came in to work healthy or unhealthy, so often so that the higher ups would demand to send him home if he came in like that. No one could keep Piers Nivans from his job, it was his livelihood. He always was there by his captain's side fighting or not, or whatever this was, so what was keeping him? Chris was thinking about letting someone else take over for the day so he could go see what the matter was. It was a choice he had to be careful with. After yesterday there was the chance things could go poorly if he showed too much of a vested interest in the man to his superiors. Particularly since Jake was so forthcoming about how Chris had been led to act because he thought someone was shagging his partner. Son-of-a-bitch.

The decision wasn't too hard, he had started the day with the recruits, and he'd finish with them. The man had them running many drill scenarios like normal, running their bodies ragged with Chris guiding their steps and reminding them that anything was possible in their line of work. His concern for his partner would have to wait. It was difficult because of the way the men were with him. Chris was like a general with the men, Piers was his second, they expected him there beside Chris to enforce all his orders. There was more slacking and stupidity on heir end without Piers constant berating and much more obvious mistakes without his guidence. Piers was a second that anyone would die to have, and at the moment, he would have killed for. "Alright men!" he yelled so that all could hear. "This exercise is meant to work your coordination skills when making on the spot decisions. The hostages are all split up, so that means you'll have to form teams to look for them, there are ten in all. The evac point is a mile north of the building. Anything over five hours and the hostages not rescued are counted as dead. Let's try to let that happen!"

The man counted down so the rookies would know when to start then watched them all go off. Shaking his head at the fact that not one of them had stopped to question the 'intel' that he'd provided them with. He could still remember the first day of Piers dry runs. His face had been so flush and demanding as he instructed their men to do a clean sweep despite the orders given because HQ would never have eyes on everything and they weren't leaving men behind. Snickering, Chris recalled how he had taken the reaming with pride, even met his captain's indignation with his own and let Chris have it about who was HQ to judge who's lives were more important. Chris had to fight the urge to just leave these men there with the mission specifics on their own for a good few minutes. It was always amusing when the radio silence scared rookies half to death, and it happened more often in the field than they were willing to admit in the S.O.U., so Chris took the moment to step away. He didn't have to search hard to find Jill at her desk, pouring over paperwork pretaining to the last mission working with the Russian S.O.A.s that their higher ups were contesting as mutually beneficial. She jerked her head up after a few minutes, Chris leaning on the window frame and watching the rookie training yard below as she finished jotting down some final notes, plopping the pen on the desk and folding her hands together, resting her chin on them.

"Yeah what's up Chris?"

"Piers. Didn't come in this morning, just checking in. You know how he is"

A brunette raised brow questioned him silently, but his attempt to appear disinterested in the topic was obviously the only investment he was going to allow her access to. Chris' feelings had always been off limits to Jill, even after she just about died saving his life..., more than once. "Yeah, I know how he is. He lives for the job. Only person I know who's more dedicated to it than you are." She was waiting for him to give her his full attention, but there was only a brief sideways nod to acknowledge her statement. There were a few minutes of silence, Jill regarding him leaned there precariously on the window, wincing every so often at the stumbling his rookies were doing trying to get to evac on time. Exasperated, Jill let out a huff, scooping her pen back up in delicate lock-picking hands, pursing her lips and getting back to work since Chris was hell bent on appearing completely distracted. "He called in this morning. Asked for a personal day. And I gave it to him. Kid works himself to exhaustion every day, its only right he takes a break every so often. You'd do well to give him more time off. I know you two are attached to each other, but I can't imagine he's not worn out by all the work you give him. Hasn't missed a day since he returned to the B.S.A.A., let him have one without jumping down his throat. Its not his fault you can't handle your rookies on your own." She shot him a look when Chris scowled, snorting over her obsession over his well being. Jill smothered. "Leave hi-

The door slammed shut, Chris leaving her without explanation. Piers called Jill, not his captain? Even if he wasn't certain of their situation if Piers wasn't going to come in then he could have at least had the gull to call Chris about it. Unless of course he was intentionally avoiding him. Weren't they better than that? Piers Avoiding Chris just because he kissed him? It wasn't as though Piers hadn't enjoyed it, he had melted into him like butter and returned it with just as much fervor. If anything Chris thought that with how straight forward his partner was he would have come to him immediately afterward. He almost had forgotten that his partner wasn't completely himself lately, in the field he might have been straightforward and exacting, but after that little tiff in the locker room no doubt his mind had been a little shaken. He'd be fine, right? Chris went out and found his men fumbling, exasperated as one of them started stammering about how there were extra hostages, and if they were suppose to report them in before bringing them to evac, and what if he couldn't reach HQ on his com did that mean they left them behind. Idiots. No wonder Piers was always having hissy fits over the rookies whenever Chris told him to be 'understanding.' Instead he gave them each a protocol book and demanded it be read by the time he came back. No exact eta, just, "Know the answer before I get back or else."

As he jogged to his car, only one thought crossed his mind, and that was Piers. He was certain why he couldn't deal with their stupidity today was because he didn't have those reassuring little side glances. Shared amusement between their eyes that kept Chris from going absolutely batshit crazy on these people. Once he was in the car, on his way there, the tension eased slightly. This was the right thing to do. Jill might think she knew best in his situation but she didn't understand them. On top of that there was that look on Piers' face the day before as he was leaving. That sad nostalgic one he remembered seeing before under the water with the weight of the world crushing in on him and Chris didn't like it. Piers never missed work, barring any discomfort, even when he experienced it from the rest of the unit. There was nothing wrong with checking in on him... Chris had never been to Piers' home, but he did have the address, even if it seemed a little awkward that he pick now of all times to make an unannounced visit. He put it in it in the GPS system and let it calculate the shortest route, which only took a moment to do and he was off.

The closer and closer the captain got to his partner's house, the odder it felt. Though they've been partners for four years, he had never once gone to the younger man's house. The trek to the front door made Chris's hair stand on end, his body tensing with each step. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the door as if willing it to open on its own without having the humiliating of having to thud on the door and announce his intrusion. Looking around he stopped to admire the beater of a muscle car Piers owned. He'd been fixing that thing up for years, but he was always working so whatever off time he had was usually spent working on his gear not his car. Still it was cute that he'd bought one that needed work and determined to fix it. The paint just was amazing, pristine, considering there were times Chris heard him complain the thing was barely up and running. It would be great if he could... After a long moment, that felt like an hour, he finally got the gull to knock on the door. It wasn't long after that he heard movement within. When the door opens slowly, all Chris could see were the mismatched eyes of his partner in the shadows of the front hallway, pillowy lips broken and shiner, eyes dropping to the ground. "Hey Captain..."


	6. Chapter 6

**The night before. This is what happened to Piers... **

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Brass keys jingled against the silent air, a dead wind carrying away the trace hints of heat off the world and kissing the back of Piers' neck just above the place where his mesh scarf hugged in place, fingering the small thing into place before turning and relenting the deadbolt from place. Sighing, the ace stepped through the threshold of his home, shutting out the invading world with a loud thud, reunited the door with the frame, darkness resuming its place. All of the curtains were pulled shut in the main room, heavy thick material keeping out the light of the fading sun as well as the rest of prying eyes. Though if one were to say prying eyes within the confines here there would be a question to sanity. Piers' home was in the middle of no where. Living in the backwoods for most his childhood, Piers had decided once he was given his commission for all the work he'd done for the S.O.U. that e was going to get a place as far out of the civilized world as he could. It was as akin to a cabin these days as he could find, a two story with amazing windows everywhere, to let in light. If he wasn't trying to shut out the facts of the day he would have thrown them back and let every seeping inch of light inside and bathed himself in it, but right now he was just trying to forget. Forget that Jake had completely humiliated him at H.Q. and forget that Chris had... It wasn't that he hadn't thoroughly enjoyed the kiss. If he was being honest it had filled every one of his senses with a feeling he couldn't really describe.

Peeling off his jacket and hanging it on the hook beside the door, fingers nimbly set to removing the gunner's gloves off his hands, observing how they shook just thinking on the subject. His body was shaking with anticipation, shock, horror? He couldn't really tell, just that he was almost incapable of feeling anything but that as he set to work of locking the doors again and peeling he scarf from off his neck, hanging it in it's designated place on the wall beside his jacket. They were all military regs, but it felt normal having some kind of routine. Every day Piers came home was the same thing; take off the coat, take off his gloves, then scarf, follow the light streams that hit the hard wood floors and guided him through the dark into the kitchen. Nimble fingers wound around the handle of his sink, turning on the cold and leaning forward across the sink to drink directly from the faucet, pursed lips wetting as he sucked in enough of the cool fluid to sooth his throat before shutting it off again, swiping a taut forearm across his mouth to collect the drops that dared to collect around his lips and drip down from the corners. Again, he didn't bother with the windows at all, walking with heavy boot falls down a wide hallway, lined with no pictures or personal effects. In fact none of the walls within this house held anything that belonged personally to Piers. No place except his room.

Traversing the steps up in a half jog, mounting two at a time, he stopped at the top, pushing open the door to the master suite. This room was all Piers. A collection of rifles and side arms he had acquired over the years mounted on the walls, each one cleaned almost nightly, with his kit on the table. Never put away, it littered the oak top, displaying all the gun oil and rags that were used in his line of specialty along with a scope that was partially dismembered. Another project. He had several. Smiling, mostly to himself, the younger man shrugged out of the mottled grey and green shirt that clung to his musculature, peeling it off before turning it right side out and turning it over into the basket of laundry by the door. There was a washroom of its own, a master bath with a shower head that Piers had personally installed, and he had every intention of using. The living area had cushioned chairs and a coffee table, but on the other side it was his bedroom. He'd get there momentarily, after a very hot shower. His body was still aching in all the joints. There wasn't arthritis, but the electric that coursed through that tightly lean body ached every joint after a long while, and after a seizure he needed this. A very long, very hot shower. Scorching. Removing he rest of his clothing en route, tossed along the way to be cleaned up after; the young man stepped through the doorway without a door. No light require. Never needed lights. He lived in the dark for a long while as a sniper for black ops, and his captain didn't believe in the weakness of ocular diseases. Not that it had any reason to concern Piers. He had the eyes of a hawk. Instinctual memory served him well, turning on the water and pulling up the plunger that switched the water from the tub to the shower head, slathering him in deliciously unbearable heat. Droplets scoring lines on his skin and causing rivulets down his muscles, Piers enjoyed washing away the salt and sweat of the day away, the pressure of a building headache that culminated behind heavy eyelids finally eased. Fingers carding his own hair. Thank God for hot water.

Pipes clanked in the walls after thirty minutes, olive skin stained with heated red after having narrowly scorched his skin with the forcible drops that smattered his skin, gripping a towel off the hook on the wall and wrapping his slim waist, fingers splayed and running through his hair again, the water clinging them in a messy sort that outside of home no one would ever see with anything less than his signature flip. Shaking off the remnants of the day's ludicrous, the sniper stepped out of the washroom, grabbing his remaining clothing off the floor.

"What took you so long?" The fabric in hand dropped back to the floor with a swoop, one hand holding the towel around his waist in place as he jerked upright at the waist, eyes scanning in the darkness until the lamp on the bedstand flicked on, naturally narrow eyes, catching his own. Jake. Man had a way of sneaking into ever aspect of his life, and Piers didn't hide his disdain. His cohort was laid out on his black blanketed bed, legs crossed at the ankle, eying Piers' olive skin unabashed, his own self completely clothed. He hadn't expected to see Muller after what happened at HQ, after Sherry had yelled at him so loudly in front of Chris and set the record straight that even though he beat Piers o a bloody pulp he took it like a bitch from his girlfriend. "You know after you bolted like a rabbit out of there and he... followed you so gallantly, I was starting to wonder if saying he was fucking you wasn't just a rumor. But then again... look at you." Jake sneered, nodding at the ruin of skin at the junction of scars that worked over ribs and shoulder that belonged to the younger man, hen the off color of his right arm were no scars remained, still a mystery to most, and then greeting hard mismatched eyes again. Pursed lips drew in a line as Piers grit his teeth, clenching his jaw as Jake made a spectacle of him, violent eyes resting finally on the lines of scars that drew under the silver eye and across his cheek as well. "You're a damn mess."

"What are you doing here Muller, I'm not in the mood for your games."

"I don't think that's true Nivans, you are always in the mood for my games. Point and case... drop the towel." No amusement littered his voice, locking eyes with the sniper as he dared him not to listen. "Now, puppy." Piers knew the tone, the demanding one that promised hurt and pain if defied and after daring as long as he would to stare at Jake in the eye, knuckled grasp on the waist of his towel, he released it, dropping the towel for Jake's hungry eyes. "There... see? Good puppy. Now tell me, who's your master?" Jake waited eyes roaming over flesh and finding those fingers cupping his own hip, popped out in its usual fashion as Piers scoffed over the order. Jake wasn't his captain, and the man knew it full well. It drove him crazy that Piers would follow Chris to the ends of the earth and do whatever was asked of him, but with them he had to force every little thing. It made it worse now that the captain had confronted the young merc. This was about proving who owned Piers. The silence that dawned again brought a twitch beneath Muller's left eye, uncrossing his legs and standing. He should never have given him a key... Heavy footsteps came, then stopped again at the corner of the four poster bed, leaning on the cherry wood with tight arms crossed over his chest. Jake and Piers were roughly built the same, but Jake was faster, and by far more physical, he never asked twice. No, with that look in his eye and the defiance Piers dared give him, there wouldn't be any second questions, only penetrating ones. "He did touch you didn't he? I knew it. I told you Nivans I can always tell. You let that shit put his hands on this? Did it feel good puppy, did it make you shudder under his calloused finger tips and mewl for more? Did he show you-

"You Jake. You're my master." He didn't want that to continue. Not that line of questioning. Piers liked Chris, and the kiss was wonderful, but he knew better. Jake would keep driving questions if he didn't answer until he knew what happened and what happened would have had him torn into pieces by the end of the night. He hadn't been ready for this. He was ready to sleep off the day and maybe go in late the next morning because of forgetting his alarm, but he hadn't been ready for Jake to take out what happened in the locker room just yet. A disapproving nod was all it got him, waiting impatiently for those full lips to part again, and reward him with the proper statement. Jake never liked disassociated one liners, he wanted the full mile. Taking in a slow deep breath, Piers exhaled, meeting narrowed green, "You are master, Jake. I'm lucky to have such a good master." One of the hands across his chest curling a finger inward to beckon the older sniper closer. Unmoving.

"You really are pressing it puppy... never bite the hand that feeds, you little shit. I said, come here." A reluctant hand dropped from Piers' muscled hip, revealing the sexy 'V' that teased down to his crotch, finally taking a single step forward before being stopped again by a raised hand. "On your hands and knees... puppy."

"Jake."

"NOW!" Jake's voice roared through the air between them, those hands lightning fast as a fist came out and buried itself in Piers' gut, reeling him backward only to be caught by the other hand weaving in his wet hair, yanking back his neck and teeth clamping down on usually covered flesh of his throat, blood drawing out in tiny crimson beads, grinding against the muscle until forced to his knees by shoving hands, an elbow accenting the point by driving between those taut shoulder blades of the sniper, knocking him to his hands and knees. "You think because your captain fucking saved your ass in that locker room that I'm going to let you get away with that shit. You beg me Piers, every little thing you want you beg for, now fucking crawl Nivans. Crawl!" Jake's boot was in his back, shoving him forward with it until Piers' complied, his pride shrinking to the same size as decency in Jake's heart. "There's a good boy." A ragged hiss escaped Jake's voice, betraying his pleasure at seeing him on his knees. "Look at that, S.O.U.'s finest sniper, crawling on his hands and knees for me. I bet captain Chris Redfield would love to see you now." Jake's slow pace followed behind, snapping the red suspenders off his shoulders, yanking the shirt with crossed arms over his head and throwing it into the chair across the room without even turning his head from the sight before him, stepping over Piers so that his legs straddled him, tugging in those locks of tawny again, bending his neck back. "Take off my boots." Nimble fingers tugging the laces of those steel toed boots until they were loose, loosening them with each tug until the right was undone, and then the left, a hard slap to his cheek jarring Piers while the mercenary hauled back and hit him again, reaching to the floor and grabbing both hands and yanking Piers' up throwing him halfway over the bed, bent at the waist, kicking off the boots that he'd loosened. "Now... now you're going to tell me everything. Every little fucking dirty detail of what you two did together. And you'll tell me until I'm satisfied Nivans."

Piers' was naked and still half wet, his body clinging to the sheets with arms splayed out in front of him, hands grasping and bunching the soft fabric as Jake ground his body against him, the hard contours of his frame pushing down against him while fingers worked the buckle holding Jake's belt in place, yanking it out in on pull from its place around his waist, leaning back so this thighs were trapping Piers' lower body. "Tell me Nivans, did it make your cock weep when he touched your hideous body?" The sounds of the belt being looped and the buckle being pulled along itself caught the sniper's ears, wincing wen the feeling of leather gnawed into his throat, tightening around his esophagus until the metal of the buckle nipped his throat, the other end wrapped furiously around a clenching fist, yanking back on the makeshift leash with furious force. "Did he look at all your scars and tell just just how disgusting you are? Look at these knots of scar tissue... you think that bastard would really get a stiffy looking at you? Touching you? HA! I bet it was so fucking comical. Did he have to envision... his little whore Valentine while he touched you?" The sound of Jake's knife coming free from it's sheath resounded in the room, meeting his shoulder blades as the leash was pulled tighter, arching his back against the blade, nipping into olive colored skin. "Did he have to close his eyes? So he could see you?" The knife bit again, slicing across his spine and then coming up again, drawing a line from the base of his spine to the nape of Piers' neck.

Damn Jake for everything he was. Piers couldn't help but enjoy it, all those slices and rough touches, the ones that Jake gave him without request or concern. He liked that Jake wasn't afraid of taking what belonged to him, even if it shouldn't have. Everyone else was afraid of the sniper now, everyone but Jake. The knife wounds were tantalizing, sending a tremor over his flesh and pooled in his gut even as insult and insult bantered his senses. It was true though, no one wanted to see this, the person he was. And Piers couldn't help but grimace in please as the knife tip traced his ribs. "Did he tell you everything you wanted to hear? Some lies about how you look handsome still, not like a fucking monster, huh? How about how his cock felt in your mouth, tell me Nivans, how did it taste." Jake was throwing a knife at a target in the dark trying to get Piers to talk about what happened between them, and instead used it, pulling his weight off from behind his thighs and flipping Piers so his chest was exposed, leaning his weight back against him, pant fabric scratching his legs and the water absorbing into it as Jake leaned down with the combat knife tip to his nipple. Darting his tongue over the nub of flesh as he pierced it, licking up the tiny bead of blood as a gasp filled the expanse of lung beneath him. "Like this? Did he tease your body like this, taste you with his tongue," Jake wrapped his lips around his nipple, urging a whimper and he gnawed and worried it while suckling, his knife meeting Piers' throat to hold him in place. "He know you like this? Sensitive bitch aren't you?" His other hand was trailing down the younger man's sides, trailing through the lines of blood down to cup Piers' hip hard enough to leave marks. Rewarded by groans beneath the attention. Jake switched nipples quickly, intentionally sweet knowing Piers wasn't hearing his insults any more, just thinking of Chris and how it would feel having him treat him this way.

That was the idea. Urge him into talking and you could get a confession. Pulling back, he let a trail of spit drip down from his tongue to that nub of flesh, smirking at how well Piers' maintained his position under him. "So much self control huh? Does he like that to? Give you orders like your master does?" Piers' brows were knit together, perfect arches fixed at concentrating on not getting enthralled in the action. Jake was being kind, and he was rarely that. If he didn't get his answer soon enough then he wouldn't think twice on causing pain. But Piers liked the little hurts, the painful ones as well, and that was the issue, each nibble and draw of saliva over his chest making shocks run through Piers of electricity that Jake enjoyed a bit much for his own good. "Oh see... pretty little puppy loves his attention. I know..., Chris touched that distorted body didn't he, got you that orgasm you always wanted from him. Does he know you can't get off without your master beating you fucking senseless?" Finally, Jake tipped his head, growling at the silence yanking the leash tighter while he peeled off of Piers, tossing the knife aside on to the pillow of the bed.

They kept things. More importantly, Jake kept things here, things he liked to use on Piers. And for the sake of convince, he kept them under the bed, leaning down and yanking the duffel out, the impeding zipper sending a shudder through the sniper, his abdominal muscles tightly straining against being yanked by the leash that cut off the air to his lungs. Olive skin was turning red from the blood and lack of air, lips pouted and agape when rummaging ended with a snap across his stomach that sent a short wave of agony over his skin, goosebumps rising under the mark. The lash in those young rough hands was swaying with each little pretend slap of it over his skin, jerking the leash back toward head of the bed, making Piers scramble backward on his heels and palms until he could tie off the leash to the bed post. "What did he do to you puppy? You know there's nothing wrong with beating animals." The lash came down almost gently at first, striking his shoulder first, and then the bicep, heavy leather gnawing red strips that nagged with a burn even afterward. "How did he touch you?" The question came more insistently, smacking it across both muscle strained thighs, the resounding slap of flesh followed by another, and a grimace of silenced yelp. "Oh there's the sweet spot, you like that, right on those pretty thighs. The one part that didn't get fucked up when you trashed yourself with that c-virus. He rub you through the fatigues, feel those strong muscles hm?" Another smack on top of the others brought a shout, but the refusal to answer caused Jake to growl deep down in his hairless chest, hauling back his arm, bicep flexing before smacking it across Piers' face slicing the skin open in a line. "Tell me!" He was beating him now, no break between strikes, just bringing that lash down on him over and over, Piers curling his arms around his chest terrorized flesh as the leather licked his skin with venom, jerking to ball himself up but Jake was over him, holding his legs down as he reddened his entire body, the lash smacking down around his forearm until the leather tangled on those taut bulged muscles before giving up on the lash, throwing it aside.

"You stupid little bitch. You know he doesn't give a shit about you, look at that eye." Damn it, that's always what came eventually. The mutations. "Here let me do him a favor, I'll gauge it out for him so he won't have to look at that ting anymore." There was the knife again, digging a line of fresh blood under his eye, holding Piers' head still, with one hand splayed on his forehead, shoving his skull into the pillows, the other guiding the knife point along the scar tissue on his face, along his and down his neck, licking the tangy iron that dribbled down from the wounds, to the junction in his shoulder. Gnawing on the spot he'd already abused, Jake worried at the flesh; already hard from just beating on Piers like that, but feeling the goosebumps and electric that followed his touches on his skin; covering him in marks just made his neglected cock strain in his pants, deepening the cut once it reached his once mutated arm. It was easily making inch deep slices into the flesh, ruining olive skin and sinewy muscle in his arm, Piers crying out as the knife plunged into his bicep, completely through, free Jake's hands to hold down the younger man as he jerked and writhed, pitching his weight to get away from the assault on his body, Jake's mouth meeting the shout of agony and crushing their lips together. Full pouted lips against teeth that bit down and dragged them open, demanding without invitation into that heated cave, dragging taste buds against the other's tongue, sucking and biting the sensitive flesh. The searing agony in his arm was only adding to the lust pooling in his stomach, locked in a tongue war with the mercenary until Jake pulled back, sucking in air.

"Fuck does he know Nivans what a sick fuck you are? You like that huh? I know you do," Muller leaned forward, whispering in the ace's ear huskily, lips parting to run his tongue over the lobe of his ear, eliciting a groan, Piers' arms finally snaking from around himself and the one unstabbed arm slipping to Jake's well muscled hip, ducking under the waistline of his pants, tracing the muscled 'V' with his finger tip, causing his abuser to groan, grasping for the hilt of the blade and twisting, skin ruined as electric sparked off Piers body and into Jake, surging through them, the skin around the knife splitting to reveal slick dark tone tissue where olive had once been, ripping like a seam to reveal the mutation beneath, threatening to tear apart the human shell he'd learned to maintain while the other hand of Jake's found Piers' stiffening cock, pumping it with his fist watching both tears of pain and pleasure surge through Piers' body. "That's right puppy, pout, whimper, beg master." Jake laughed maliciously, yanking the knife downward and letting electric waves engulf them, burning bits of skin as his arm threatened further mutation, moaning openly before yanking free the blade and the teasing hand all at once. Gazing at the ruin of muscle and skin and how fibers of flesh and muscle, gushing blood into the bed twitched on their own, trying to pull themselves back to one another, the dark throbbing mutated flesh zapping and jolting together. "That's my puppy, on your knees Nivans. I'll give you that fuck your captain interrupted."

"Jake please, just... just drop it," Sweat had replaced clean water, and blood soaked the mattress the pulse of his body pumping out blood, lightheaded from the lack of it and gasping. "Chris didn't know, he doesn't need to know."

"Doesn't need to know? That this belongs to me, hell yes he does. And we'll do this all damn night if we have to!" The knife he'd pulled free impaled into the joint of the shoulder, severing its location and prying the bone out of joint, mounted over Piers' waist and driving it deeper, a scream jarring the walls and the pulled curtains until it was all Jake could hear, driving the knife down with all his force over and over, watching the mutated flesh heal and reheal, revealing the dark hideous form of it as his consciousness released its hold on the form of his arm, electricity and waves of heat surging off it enough to send a pulse through the room, knocking Jake back as the flesh tore and ripped until cracking bones and sickening pops turned nimble fingers into clawed tentacle like appendages. "Yes... there it is. That reason you won't let him close. Feels good letting it free doesn't it." Pressure that built behind Piers' head the bolts of lightning scoring marks in the walls and busting out his picture window as he screamed tapering until his chest heaved in exhaustion, Jake slowly jerking back to mount over him, nuzzling the mutated limb. "Fuck, look at you my little pain junkie. Want me to bite it?" Piers groaned, sweat clinging to every part of him, Jake's sharp canine's worrying at the mutated flesh, laving it with his flesh until he moaned. "Now roll... over."

The weight and awkwardness of Piers' body falling over itself, his heartbeat heightened and causing the those sparks of electric to lick over his skin, whimpering. "Hands and knees, puppy." Jake smirked, watching on his heels while prying his pants from off his hips and thighs, his erection springing free and kicking from the sight before him. Piers limb trapped under him because of how ungainly it was as he pushed up with the other humanoid arm, burying his face in the pillow. "Speak." Jake liked treating him like a dog but when he nudged backward against him he felt the knife, not the head of his cock pushed eagerly against the ring of tight muscle. "Speak, bitch." The tip pricked the muscle, Piers' voice lost and found in an instant, yelping at the pain as he threatened to push it inside him.

"He kissed me! Fuck, master. He kissed me," Piers' voice quivered, but Jake didn't stop, letting the slowly penetrate enough to cut into muscle that had expected pleasured teasing, not satisfied and nudging further, electric jumping up Jake's arm as he threatened him, teeth grinding together to enjoy it sadistically. "He put his mouth on mine, and his lips were soft. I was crying and he just, he kissed me hard and fast. He didn't even back away from he, he just grabbed me by the shoulders and took me." Jake stayed his knife, then smirked pulling it back and flipping it before spitting down on Piers' ass, cramming it hilt first into the young sniper, growling deep in his ear as he started thrusting it in and out of his tight asshole, smearing blood from the cuts. "Jake God, I'm sorry!"

"You call me MASTER! I am your master Piers, and you are mine. You fucking let it happen. You think he'd want all this? Believe me you fucking little shit, I'm going to make you pay for ever wanting his cock inside you. You think that knife was the most of your worries, I can't wait to hear those ragged moans when I jam every little thing up that ass of yours until you can't take it anymore. Then when your lips are parted and whorishly moaning for more, I'll finally stick my dick inside you... only when I'm done with you." When the knife slipped between teeth and pulled horizontally into Piers' mouth, holding his mouth open and threatening to split those pouted lips, Jake smirked leaning forward, his own naked body flush against the back of muscled thighs, his hard erection nudged betwixt his cheeks, licking the marred mutation, regaining deadly composure in his strong sinewy limbs. "I'm going to ruin that puckered ass of yours Nivans... and you know what I've got in my bag of tricks. Just try not to cum until I'm done... Otherwise we'll have to start alllll over." Leaning over he bed, he pulled up a gag, dangling it in front of mismatched eyes. "Call in sick pretty boy, its gonna be a long night."

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**Oh Piers, I'm sorry... but this goes on all night, and Jake doesn't lie about what kinds of things he intends to do.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Lots of dialogue!**

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"You are goddamn kidding me..."

"Captain, I called in."

"Stowe it!" Chris stood incredulously at the door, shoving passed Piers who was leaned on the door, swaying to and fro as it moved from being nudged passed by his captain's massive shoulders, rolled eyes before shutting the door behind him. Those eyes read with the 'come right in why don't you,' expression, one of annoyance before he slipped over the top of his couch, dropping into the plush seats while Chris paced the length of the room, thudding on the hard wood floors, eyes flashing up on every pass to consider the shiner covering the socket where that singularly hazel eye peered out, a welted slice just under it, watched Chris so non-nonchalant, arms crossed over his chest in his S.O.U. hoodie. "Don't lie to me, Piers, it's not in you. When did he do that?" Chris could tell, any well seasoned soldier had the training to do so. It wasn't even six hours passed at the most. He demanded the honest answer, straight from the horse's mouth. Patience was not one of Chris' strong suits, he never waited long. He waited even less if you were the second in command of a unit, had gone to Hell and back again for it's captain, and weren't afraid of a good beating. Piers just stared at him him, pacing his room like a prowling lion and ignoring how out of place the man looked. "It's fresh Piers, now start talking."

"Four hours ago, maybe less. What's it matter when he gave it to me?"

Thunderous steps halted, looking into mismatched eyes that seemed to care so little for the current topic at hand, stern gaze panning around the house, doorways, hallway, every open space. "Because that means he was here when you called in this morning. You weren't just hiding that shiner... you were covering his ass."

"Captain, why are you here?"

"Where is he Piers? I want a location."

"Not here Chris."

"Where!?"

"Not here.'

"Why are you protecting him?"

"Why are you here?"

"Because I give a shit Piers, you're my partner and he's beating the living hell out of you, that's why! How can you just sit there and take it?!" Chris threw his arms out, indicating the way Piers had one leg kicked out on the couch in a pair of cargos and his sweater, arms wrapped around a hugging the other, his cheek rested absentmindedly on his kneecap while watching his captain fume. "I know you, you aren't the kind to call in to cover someone else's bullshit, so you either think you deserve this, or you're defending him. Either way, it's a mistake I won't allow you to make. Don't you remember what happened yesterday?!" Chris snarled, his hulking frame fuming from the effort of not throwing something inside Piers' house, even though when he finally realized it, the young man had nothing inside his house to throw. He had furniture, and that was it. He'd have to settle for throwing around couches for good measure, since Piers kept no personal effects. Growling he placed his calloused hands on the back of the chair facing the couch the sniper was perched on, the back bowing under his weight ominously. "Why do you let him get away with this? I've-I've seen the kind of damage you can take Piers, I've felt it. If you don't let me put a stop to this right now, you won't be able to keep going." Chris' protruding brows knitted together, watching Piers shifting under his glower, favoring particular parts of his body. It was obvious that the black eye wasn't the only damage. Enough that he was favoring his left arm and refusing to get up, or offer any kind of explanation. "And what about...," He had tried not to think about that... But how could he not? Kissing Piers the other day had felt right when he'd done it, the way their lips touched, how Piers had to put in so little effort with those pillowy lips to make Chris feel heat encompass his entire person, it all fit into place. Didn't Piers understand? Couldn't he feel the spark between them?

Instead he was getting eyed precariously by those mismatch toned eyes, reading Chris' body language before irritation finally crept into his voice. The younger solider moved, without the slightest hesitation, swinging a leg over the side and then the other, stepping up, canting his head to the side with malice. Piers rarely was ever cruel. He spoke his mind, and he contested decisions he didn't support, but there was always a reason for him to be that cold. Those slices of gold in his hazel eye mixed with the silver was enough to make Chris have trouble meeting his gaze. The captain of the B.S.A.A. had met eyes with Albert Wesker and a slew of other malevolent characters, meeting Piers' eyes shouldn't have made him feel so strange, but it did, lurching his weight to stand straight backed in contest with the leaner bodied man, locking into some kind of battle. "You mean the kiss Chris?" When he stepped closer to him, inches away from each other, it was even more compelling to look away. With this little space between them, Chris could see the slice in his lip, just starting on the road to recovery, the bruising on his face darkening slowly, marks on the sides of his neck: hickies, scratches, bruises, tiny cuts where teeth had sank in, the smell of Jake's cheap cigarettes still clinging to his body, covering the smell of his naturally clean body odor. "You mean that one... kiss?" He was closer to Chris and he could feel the heat between them, Piers' hand cupping his own hip and tipping his weight forward so that the captain could see the tired expression in those mismatched oculars while he eyed him carefully. "The one where you, leaned down, took me by the back of the neck..., and assaulted me in the parking garage? Where I was crying and you decided that was the time to kiss me, after 4 years, 4 long years, that was the time to kiss me? Like that would HELP!?" Piers voice rose, and without expecting it both hands crashed against Chris' thick chest, shoving him backward on his heel, with eyes going wide as saucers, as he hit the wall. "Like you kissing me is suppose to make the last four years mean nothing?! How long did you want me to wait for you Chris?!"

Wait for him? Chris scoffed, still in shock that Piers had hit him even though they were still only a few feet apart and Piers threatened that distance further when he continued his outrage. He was saying things now that Chris couldn't even hear, he'd phased out completely and was just watching sickening crimson blood seeping through and staining the second 'A' mark on his sweater, electricity jumping between his fingers and over his knuckles as they curled. Chris could care less what his partner was saying, it was filtering, the words entering one ear, looking for relevant words and coming up empty so disposing of them while he trained his eyes on that spot on his chest, just under his ribs, staining further. The hoodie was beige, Piers' always wore neutrals, but it made it so much more evident as crimson continued to stain that he'd ripped a stitch, meaning either he had been to the emergency room to get himself checked out without the B.S.A.A. knowing, or he stitched it himself. Finally Chris' eyes narrowed, and snatched Piers head like a dolls head, one hand over his mouth, the other around the back of his head with his bicep holding him in place. "Shut up. Think you can manage that?" Pier was jerking in his arms, slowly stopping when he realized his captain wasn't going to let go, and with his physical prowess it would be impossible to simply jerk away or fight him on the matter. His arms were marble carved, veined weapons of destruction, being trapped in them was the definition of having no where to go. Slowly, the lean body in his arms stopped it's battle, and the captain's arm finally dropped down from basically suffocating the kid and reached down, tugging the hem of his sweater up over his well defined musculature.

What he saw made his stomach turn. Piers turned his face away, no longer fighting and letting Chris examine his body as he tugged it upward in a slow journey up his sculpted form, tracing the injuries. Even just the inch of bare skin that was revealed at first hurt him to see. Piers was a mess of black and blue bruises, and there raised red and split welts running parallel with the hem of tan fabric, raising it slowly, and checking Piers face as he kept pulling it upward. Just along his waist were countless marks, and the higher it got the more evident it became that Piers was horribly embarrassed. How was he embarrassed by this, these weren't his fault. "These are fresh Piers... all of them. This is because...?" It made sense now. No wonder the man was so pissed off about Chris coming here. This was about the kiss. Jake had found out and he'd taken it out on every inch of skin he could touch.

"I don't want to talk about it Chris..."

No shit he didn't... more than half of these were done with a studded lash or belt. Piers would have had to have been laid out with his abdomen completely splayed out for him to hit. His second hand lifted up and tugged the back of the shirt up, pulling it all the way up and over Piers' head, the younger man letting him, lifting his arms in compliance. And there they were, the restraint marks. Chaffed skin rubbed raw on his wrists until his tan skin was pink there. his entire torso was a mess of scars from the C-Virus mutation, accented with lash marks, knife marks, teeth, nails, and the stitches just under his second rib where he's been literally stabbed. "I'm gonna kill him." Those lean arms weren't much better, his left was riddled with restraint marks, and finger prints from being held down, but his right was scored with electrical burns and healing gouge marks. They weren't bloody, marred, or even suffering marks, but they were healing much quicker than everything else. His mutated arm. So he was still had some side effects from the virus. Another guarded secret apparently. Those scored electrical burns followed knife marks. "Not so chatty now are you... you want to explain all this?" Chris had to gesture to all of him, and his partner was just staring off to the side, eyes resting on the mantle, chest heaving in an effort not to bolt from the scrutiny of his captain's hard gaze. "Piers there has to be a reason. You can't believe all of this... is your fault." He wanted to touch him, but just the though with the way he was bruised and battered made him nauseous with the idea of what that would even feel like to Piers. It would probably feel like a thousand paper cuts all over his body. Shaking his head, the captain took his by the shoulders, almost delicately, and placed him back on the couch. "First aid kit Piers?"

A silent nod, "Under the sink... bathroom, first door on your right."

Chris hissed out through his teeth, still shaking his head and crossed the room, looking over his shoulder once at the man, elbows propped on his knees and sniper keen eyes glued to the stripes of hard wood under his feet. The back side of his shoulder looked like it was still healing from another stab wound. What kind of person would do that? Did Sherry really not know about Piers and Jake? About how Jake tortured him? It was a small bathroom, but Chris wasn't there for the scenery, throwing open the lower cabinet and pulling out the first aid kit. He didn't even know why he cared the bathroom was small until he took a second look. Ash tray on the side of the sink. That's what caught his attention. Piers didn't smoke. Plucking up the cigarette butt he examined all the ashes and the heat of the crushed cherry. That son of a bitch was here just as Chris got here. How had he not noticed? Gritting his teeth, he studied the sink, noting the blood that was half ass washed down the skin, wiping a finger through the deluded red, almost pink fluid. He'd done the half-assed job on Piers' stitches. "You've got thread and a needle right?" The bathroom echoed when he called out to Piers, hearing a quiet bu reaffirming 'uh huh' while he checked everything else to make sure he hadn't missed all the trace reminders of Jake's presence. This was the second bathroom, and there was the ashtray. Jake stayed here. He didn't just come and visit Piers whenever, he stayed here. After a quick second look through of the cabinets and flushing the toilet to make up for the extended period of time he took looking around so Piers wouldn't think too long on it, he returned to the room. It wouldn't have mattered though anyway, he was just sitting there staring at his feet. "We'll start with the back Piers... work our way to the front alright?"

"Mhm..."

There was so little to say during all this, Chris was simply incredulous, and could do nothing but stitch and wash Piers' back with a warm hand towel, trying to clean up the wounds the best he could. It took almost two hours of silence before Chris was happy with his back, manipulating Piers like a doll, silently twisting him and resting on the floor between his legs. "Alright partner... lets try this again. Why on God's green earth... are you...," the words were bitten off, snarling and trying to contain himself while washing up the stab wound. His right arm was already completely healed now... They'd get to that part later. The harder part was not spitting and becoming a massive mess of rage and ripping Piers' head clean off his shoulders at the words 'sleeping with Jake.' "Why are you letting him beat you?" That was a better question, he didn't want to hear, some jackass reason about how they were in love or some shit. No way they were, but even the idea of it was appalling. Scoffing, his hands raised, giving the slimmer man a slight push backward, tending to his welts with the ointment in the box. It had been fully stocked, and from the months they'd gone on seeing these kinds of marks it was obvious why he needed all this crap. "At least help me understand why." There was a huff, manipulated flesh dancing with goosebumps as a shock jumped into Chris' fingers and made him curse. Both brown eyed men meeting each other's gaze briefly before Chris continued, waiting impatiently for his answer.

"I'm damaged."

"No shit."

"Not... not battered wife shit Chris, you know me. You know I don't take shit from people, since when have I ever taken shit from anyone?" Piers was waiting; giving that all too knowing stare that meant Chris was ignoring his statement until he was forced to acknowledge what his partner was saying. After that outburst where he'd actually full on struck that firm mountainous body, it was a bit obvious that if Piers really wasn't in the mood to talk or listen, he wouldn't. Eventually it relented into Chris' huffy sort of a nod, extending the silence and courtesy of letting the sniper explain himself. "Look ever since... ever since China, look you saw what happened to me. You know. Its not old news, its the same boring old stuff over and over. When I came back from China, after everything had happened. It was blurry. And I'm not some stupid little princess okay, I can take pain, I always could, I could take the shit that happened to me and take it in turn because I believed in the cause I did it for okay?! But... but this?!" He picked up his right arm, jarring Chris out of position and forcing his attention on the sparks that flew over his skin. "I can't feel things Chris. The whole right side of my body, my arm, ribs, the reason I couldn't tell I was bleeding again, I have nerve damage. Not some mental issue okay? I just can't feel anything in my body except that fucking charge of electricity."

Rough pads took hold of Piers appendage, tracing the knuckles of his hand, up to his elbow, all the while watching his face. Nothing of it registered, and watching the younger man shake his face made Chris' brows furrow, grunting unhappily before continuing to trace, up to the shoulder and his neck, all the places the scarring should have been and was. There was no flinch, no goosebumps, no nothing. Either Piers was a good actor or he literally had no feeling on his right side. "Alright... fine.. you can't, what feel? I mean hell I live with a bottle of Jameson in one hand and a shotgun in the other, I know all about not feeling. I'm sure there are other ways-

"I feel pain... Chris. I feel knives and beatings and what I feel more than that, is when I don't have to hold it in anymore. Jake strips me down to nothing, makes me have to feel it. This skin on my arm, I don't feel those touches Chris I feel what's underneath. That's why the knife, the beatings, the restraints, the endless abuse. Because if he does those things long enough I can't fight anymore and you have no idea how good it feels to finally let it go." There was stunned silence, Chris back to work trying not to scream about how it might feel good but it was wrong. Horribly, disgustingly wrong to have his partner getting torn apart by Jake Muller. There was a difference between wanting to feel something, and getting mutilated. More over the person doing those things should be someone who gives a damn about his person. Piers was his partner... his. Not some kick toy for Muller's amusement.

"Like the seizures..."

Understanding was lacing his voice, carefully stitching the stab wound in his chest. "Yes Chris... like the seizures. I pass out and because I do, I can't control them, and it feels... right. It's painful, but it feels so good not to fight. I fight everything else..."

There was silence again, another hour long silence. Chris processing, stitching, cleaning wounds; darkness creeping in through the huge open windows and Chris was still dabbing on ointment, brushing his fingers along the ligature marks and violent stab wounds. It was just silence between them, Chris knelt between Piers' legs touching all the little hurts and watching each one where the younger soldier would twitch or not feel; gradually pushing him back against the back of the couch, orders without words tell him to shift to his back to let Chris look at all the wounds, on leg slung off the side of the couch and the other over the arm of it until he was completely laid back and Chris had moved over him, just touching, stroking each injury as he settled between his legs. Piers was only able to watch him, his mouth going dry with how intently Chris was pushing, teasing each spot with his rough pads, giving them all of his attention just before closing the gap, lips parting and licking over his left pectoral earning a thousand and one swears to come unexpectedly tumbling out of Piers' mouth before sealing them over his nipple, all those impulsive curses lost in Piers throat as he groaned. Chris bit gently and hummed hearing how quickly Piers came unwound from his chaos; sucking, his fingers finding the other until he had Piers without words or requests practically a mess on the couch. This was his, his partner, his person, his body to make whimper and plea. Oh and did he ever sound good. Sparks of fiery electric sparking in his mouth and over his finger tips while he worked him, and Chris needed nothing else. He knew Piers, and he knew those words he'd been stewing on over more than any in the last few hours. 'How long did you expect me to wait.' Piers had been waiting for Chris. Well there was no waiting any more and he didn't need a whip to make Piers fall apart on this couch, fingers clawing at his muscled back while his scruff rubbed that smooth chest, accenting every lick, bite, and pinch, his weight pinning Piers to the cushions. He would make him cum in his cargo pants right here underneath him if that would make his point, because this time it was Chris' name on his lips, not Jake. "How about... you show me soldier." Whispering over his chest, Chris pulled back, blowing cold air over the place he'd been sucking on but cutting off Piers' answer by latching back on him, all his words jumbling into nine that still made no sense.

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**Eat your heart out Muller.**


	8. Chapter 8

"Wait... captain, nnnn, so good... captain, wait..."

"What do you mean wait Piers, we've been waiting for fucking ever. I'm not waiting," Chris' voice was a grizzly bear's grumble, articles of clothing thrown across the livingroom and sagging over the back of the couch where Piers was all but whimpering in a complete wreck of himself, hands bunching in the fabric of his captain's navy shirt that was yanked all the way up to his broad chest and scrunched between calloused slimmer fingers. The captain rested between his partner's legs like some kind of god refusing to wait after his little chiding, refusing to hear the words that threatened to stop this, with how close his partner was. "I know what you want, trust me Piers." Taste buds swept across his chest, suckling and biting any bit of olive flesh that showed and teasing the rest with his heated fingertips committing this golden body to memory while he tasted every drop of salty sweat and grazed his teeth over his nipple again; deprave and perverse moans filling the room. He could feel the straining fabric pushed against his stomach, heated and pulled taut over Piers' erection, weeping for release. It was so perfect, hearing his name on those lips but then it wasn't. He liked hearing Piers' begging his _captain. _Begging _captain_ Redfield to make him whole, to stop teasing and give him that sweet release. It was a power trip, and Piers begged like his life depended on it. Begging his captain over and over while there was nothing more perverse to Chris than to have that tawny haired, diligent sniper warped into his own personal fantasy until he lured himself passed all the begging and was hell bent on showing his partner how easy it was for him to heal the hurts, how quickly and loudly he could turn Piers from that stoic sniper he eternally maintained, into his captain's whore. If it was what Piers wanted, if that was why he enjoyed Muller touching him so much, he could teach Piers exactly what he was capable of. He didn't need whips or chains, restraints..., all he needed was his mouth and a few seconds; this proud, apathetic soldier would spill his entire entire essence into his captain's hands. Ye they could be sweet and loving, he wanted to heal every hurt that Jake had caused, but healing wasn't what the sniper needed right now, he needed someone to show him who he belonged to, and that was his captain.

Dipping his hands to undo the remaining zipper that refused to relent to him with their awkward position, Chris' pressed short lived kisses to creamy, tanned flesh. Entertaining himself all the while with the stifled groans that he could produce from the man beneath just with the lavished attention, ignoring how jolts of fire searing heat and teeth bit his tongue whenever he strayed too long. "Its okay baby just relax." He didn't even know where all the bedroom talk came from, they were never close, at least not in a physical sense, but the second those moans slipped unbidden from those battered pillowy lips, he'd instantly made the choice for both of them what was going to happen here. Even as talented and completely experienced as he was, Piers' moaned like a virgin under Chris, all those pleas; eyes sealed shut as his head tipped back, one slipping deep from in his chest and tearing through him and out agape lips, filling the room with tenor when Chris' large hand snaked into his cargo pants, calloused rough palms not playing at being gentle as he took hold of his partner's already dripping cock. Kid was so worked up just from having Chris' attention and yet he was begging him to please wait... Warmth flooded his fingertips as the body pinned beneath his burly weight was trapped in place, which arched almost completely off the couch when Chris pumped his hand, nimble fingers weaving into brown thick hair to the roots, gripping white knuckled in the captain's hair, crying out.

"Wait! Please captain... mmmghhh, please stop... you have to... stop. Please." That same tenor pleading for reprieve only earned him all the more rough tugging, pulling the pants on his hips downward to expose Piers' slimmed muscled hips while working him to complete distraction. Chris couldn't know, no one had told him, there was no reason to tell him, and it felt so good his whole body was aching with want. Flush covered the softer features, and torn scars, crimson blush turning his face beat red when he almost came right there just from the barest of touches. "Please... urgh captain, you have to..."

"What I have to do show you who you belong to Piers. No one else can touch you Piers, no one else can make you come undone this fast. Who else can make you feel this good?" Chris was addicted to that flavor, the way every time his tongue trailed a line of spit; electric sparks would follow, but they were increasing the longer he teased, jumping and arching off his body. Every touch was getting him closer and if Piers didn't have amazing self restraint there was no doubt in his mind that he would have fallen apart. It was reaffirming and it felt so damn good finally having him, trapped with no place to go but to show and tell his captain everything. "So perfect you know that? All those pretty sounds you're making just for me...," Chris voice pursued each of those enticing moans, those sweet noises that were making Chris' lopsidedly smile and enjoy ravishing him all the more while chasing each sound from his partner's throat with a groan of his own, directing those purrs to continue on. With his hips bare and Chris' huge torso between his legs, those thighs were parted so wickedly, sliding his spare hand over muscled flesh and massaging the sweat slick sinew drawing more until Piers was no more able to talk than to fight back. Guiding his weighted frame up that lithe torso, he savored the silkiness of how their bodies rubbed together letting his free hand slide over the leg that had dropped over the side of the couch and gripped that taut thigh, rubbing his thumb in bruising circles until he pulled Piers' leg around his own wait. Chris intentionally was teasing, making sure to pull just close enough until their breath could be felt on each other's lips, leaning until there was less than inches between rough stubbled countenance and smooth soft pouted tissue. Chestnut brown was locked on the straining throat and was transfixed with winning more sounds out of him; almost purring into the young sniper's mouth trying to coax every motion out of him, the rock of those eager hips up into his hand while jerked and bucked up into him were granting him proof, even while he muffled cries to wait were still trying to issue forth. Chris' lips grazed and tantalized smooth skin, brushing gently over pouted tiers that urged to capture them in a kiss but were chased away to quickly as he neglected them no matter how needy and touched Piers' ears, his tongue lapping at the lobe briefly as he stilled his hand, and cooed in his ear, humid gasps clinging to his neck while the body under him, coated with sweat and dancing electric writhed beneath him, beseeching his captain for more while pouted lips trembled jaw clenched and straining.

"Wai... wait Chris. Yyou don't understand... You don-

There was a deep chuckle and the slightest shake of the head, lips latching to his neck, and wet moist taste buds lapping over his skin before teeth buried in the junction of that slim always hidden neck at the same time giving Piers that heated jerk he was seeking so badly. Just the combination had him crying out, body arching while white enamel buried itself and worried the muscle, twisting his grip and drawing the cry he'd been waiting to hear since the day they'd become partners. Thick fluids covering his fingers making them slick as he continued to pump his hand until the body in his arms went completely rigid the cry of ecstasy becoming one of pure pain just before Chris felt it. Electric surged through both bodies, setting every nerve on fire, exploding burning lights behind his retinas and every passionate action becoming a sudden struggle to breathe, for his heart to beat and the nearest window blew completely out. Glass shattered everywhere electromagnetic force held them in place, statues being serrated with blinding knives jabbing into his stomach and gut. Their bodies were covered in a blinding light that charged and staggered through the core of both men, convulsions taking the younger beneath him. Piers' body was seizing beneath his own that was made completely taut by the lightning jarring his core. Darkness flooding the room while the lean sweat soaked, body pinned beneath went shuddered for air, twisting body immersed under him screaming out as sweat slid his body against the captain's fists balling up and shaking from effort. Teeth were grit together, both contrasting eyes wide open seeing nothing but the shards of bolts of electricity dancing over their skin like death; gasping for air.

The captain's own body wasn't all that much different either, huge biceps, triceps and forearms so taut and tensed they bulged with the effort to hold back his own deep baritone howl, veins visible and ropes of muscle strangling to keep composure. Chris grimacing in pain while lightning sprung over the flesh between their frictionless bodies, burning the hand that had caressed orgasm from his partner until his whole arm shuddered the wave of sparks that hit them much akin to what one must have felt being strapped in an electric chair and sentenced to death. His heart was thundering in his chest and narrowly stopped as the waves finally seemed to die down along with his beating of his organ. "Jesus Piers!" Chris lurched from between his partner's legs immediately falling backward over the end of the couch and jumping to his feet, all done with complete gracelessness. He was staring down at him on the couch, heaving for air, scowl in place while the electric bioweapon with those mismatched eyes seemed to withdraw immediately, pulling his exhausted limbs in as best he could, splayed on the couch surface like a dead body from the concussing seizure; fluids clinging to his lower stomach and Chris' hands as well as electrical burns everywhere across his body and his captain's. "You should have said something, Jesus Christ Nivans what the hell was that?!"

"I tried to tell you. I can't control it, and there... look you said.. I...," Chris was gathering things, shaking his head in disbelief while excuses were made and his coat was replaced back on his shoulders, jerking it closed. "Please don't go. Captain?" Shame covered once smooth features, and suddenly there was nothing to be said between them, Chris was staring at him incredulously, despite what he'd done himself not listening to all those beautiful pleas or taking him on his word. It didn't matter because it was there written and etched in stone on the mountainous man's features. The disgust he knew would be there, that even Jake said would be there. Disgust riddled with shock and horror. There was a demonizing that took place in those hardened grime eyes that seemed to burn Piers form the inside out, forced to look away. He couldn't hold that stare, not with Jake's voice haunting in his ear canals and his ghostly finger tips touching all the places the lightning licked. _Should have known better monster. Maser knows best. What would your daddy think if he knew about your arm, if he knew that you were still infected? My touch is the only one that can take those sweet fiery kisses of death and mine is the only one you can't infect. Mine is the only one not judging that horrible hideous body of yours. See how he's looking at you monster? My little puppy. Don't worry... I'll never leave my pet, just let him go._ It was all those things in the back of his head, feeling Jake's claws in his mind tearing up his shoulder blades like he'd done that night, cooing sick taunts at him before beating him senseless as a good reminder that he was nothing more than a kick toy. "Please Chris... don't leave."

He shouldn't have, but meaty legs moved him without asking, looking away furiously before spurring out the door, thundering closed as it slammed shut behind him.

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**Sorry its a shorty, but its a setup update! For the record though I'm for team Chris, even if he was a royal ass walking out like that.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So because I received so many requests over the last week to update this first, lol. Here's your update! For those of you who were curious as to what happened to me, I had the flu. It kind of got in the way of everything update wise and then finished the last two stories. However I'm glad you guys like it enough to give me a poke and remind me which one to start updates with. Thanks guys!**

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Jake had found him like that. Curled up on the couch. Didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. The first aid box was still out, the stitches redone by a perfected hand. Of course there was no hiding that dismay on his features. He expected his master to treat him to a proper beating for it, for being used that way by Chris. After getting such a thoroughly abusive night over just a simple kiss it seemed only right that he would bury a knife into his belly and put the sniper out of his misery. Instead his ginger haired mercenary just shook his head, staring through narrowed eyes and took him back upstairs, and they'd spent practically the entire length of the star's wakefulness with Jake taking out the stitches yet again, and redoing them his way. There were reasons Piers had first started this relationship Jake wasn't always a complete dick. And he wasn't anyone new to pain. "What I tell you puppy? Come here." Jake's hands ghosted over the lightning scored flesh, pulling Piers into his lap. "You aren't like normal people anymore puppy, you can't expect them to understand what a freak you are. Don't worry, master ain' goin' anywhere. He's not even mad at you for letting that asshole touch you. I mean, who am I to judge right?" The understanding in his voice was as sickly sweet as the first time the mercenary put his bloodied hands on tan flesh. "And now that that's out of your system...," _SMACK! _"You can stop acting like such a fucking slut. As though I want to be with you after he's put his hands all over you?! I warned you puppy, and you didn't listen. You let him in, and now his _stink _is all over you." Tough pads wound into tawny brown strands of silk, tugging backward to cant that visage of shame backward with a slight twist of the wrist. "That jack ass has no idea... Did you even tell him why? Or did you just let him get his ass electrocuted? Or did some romantic vision pop into your little head about what life would be like if you'd never been infected?" The backside of a raised hand stroked Piers' softer cheek, seeking out the scars and the under lid of that single silver eye. One that stared back without malice or blame. "No... that's not like you, huh pup. They have no fucking idea."

It took hours of Jake 'ridding him of the smell' of Chris' body on him before Jake ever laid down beside him. Undoing the restraints about his wrists one-handedly admitting Piers to find a place in his arms. Possessive wouldn't have defined it. Jake was a mix of things. He was a bastard that was for sure, and he loved Sherry. Enough he was willing to change for her. But he wasn't always a complete ass. The most important thing was, Jake was immune. They could be together and Piers never had to concern himself on if the person he was sleeping next to because he couldn't get this atrocity that had attached itself to Piers. They weren't a couple, not by any means. But they were something. Jake made him feel owned, made him feel at least wanted by someone. Chris wanted Piers... but he didn't want _this_. He wanted to be with Piers, but he wanted him to be the man he'd been before. He couldn't be that person anymore. He wasn't. He'd sacrificed himself to save his captain, and he would forever be _his_ captain; but they would never be together. It became all too clear when electricity surged into his skin and burned the body he loved so much, torching his flesh. Lying here with Jake, his arm wrapped around him, he knew damn well that what it was would never be what he wanted with Chris, but then, Chris could never be alright with him. He was a bioweapon, and how could he expect the man to accept him? "Hey puppy..., you remember when I found you? Never forget it okay? I get he's your dream and all, but... you ever consider something less... conventional? You have to conform with the times puppy. Trust me, not all dreams are meant to be."

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Piers took aim with precise accuracy, his eyes narrowing just as always as the trigger hugged in the nook of his forefinger, joints compensating for the eventual recoil of the weapon that was the only thing certain in his life. The sound of bullet thundering through the air, careening into the target dead center; followed by the next, and another, and another. Until the entire clip was emptied against the target that never hedged from the barrage, nor did he, dropping out the clip and setting another before repeating the process. Clarity. The echoed sounds, the individual clicks of the trigger, the weapon making love to his shoulder. Biting his lip, he clutched the weapon, dropped the next clip, and then muffled speech was drowned out with the next shots, each attempt at starting over and over after each blow from someone baritone. He knew the voice. Everyone did. Flicking the auto on and holding the trigger and drowning him out. Three days. Took him three days to either actually find him, or to come to the conclusion how he felt. It took Piers nothing. Chris' hand on the door handle was all it took. He left, he would always leave... Piers buried the trigger in the pad of his fingers, clenching his eyes shut until the sound drowned out and the voice with it until there was nothing. Nothing but the blare of the rifle and the warmth of it in his hands. _'Don't worry puppy. Just go back to work. The novelty will wear off. And then daddy can stop trying to get into be bed with his little boy. He'll know his place.' _Once the clip was empty the area went quiet, nothing to hear but for the sweetness of mute silenced air, blowing across his face.

"Piers..."

Beautiful silence...

"Piers!"

Walk away Chris...

"Goddamnit soldier would you look at me!?"

Pouted lips pursed, released a bated breath, dropped his shoulders, and let his head fall forward, brow almost caressing the ground before the sniper finally slunk off his knees and raised from the prone position he'd been lying in for hours, jerking his stature upright. The range probably wasn't the most remote place he could have thought to hide himself away, but the fact that Chris walked away made it the only place he wanted to be. That target at the end of the length had his captain's cock visage strewn across it, with all his smarmy surety. He didn't want to see it, didn't want to see Chris. He warmed him, he told him to stop, begged him to stop. How was he suppose to make him understand that, and then he had the balls to walk away from it. As though he couldn't share in the sin for having committed himself in that damnable lie. "What do you want, _captain_?" He bit the salutation, making no effort to hide his disdain for the man behind him. Knees scuffed the ground, kicking up dirt, then one rough palmed hand gave a shove off it for support and rose completely to his feet, locking on the safety. "I'm not on duty for another 48 hours."

There was a huff, a deep barrel chested one where all the air in the world was sucked out through his lungs and held between them like the Great Wall, turning a once natural relationship into a darkness neither really wanted to broach. But Chris had to. He'd had time to think about it but in all honesty, Chris Redfield felt like a royal ass. It wasn't as though Piers hadn't asked him to back off. Why was he always having to apologize to this man. This stoic natural beauty that he was always forced to stare truth in the face for. He didn't blame him for not turning around, not staring at him face to face. Chris had taken what he wanted and hadn't listened to a damn thing that he had to say. In fact he hadn't even allowed his soldier the luxury of speaking at all during their little rendezvous because he just wanted to show off. If any one was to blame here, it had been Chris. And he knew it, he damn well knew that everything he'd done was against who he was. He told himself he could be there for Piers, he could be everything he needed without causing more pain, but even all Jake's injuries, all the broken, torn flesh, and purpled galaxies of bruises along his body didn't ever reflect as much hurt on his face as it had that day when Chris walked away. He was hurt. Piers had a right to be. Chis may have taken the brunt end of a startle, getting electrified like a squirrel walking the tightropes of telephone wires, but that didn't make it any less painful for Piers.

After having left that day. He'd had a chance to look back. He saw the marks on his own body, what the C-virus had left for Piers. It also came painfully obvious, and he may have known before, they all had, but perhaps no one wanted to admit it. But Piers wasn't okay. And he wasn't back to normal. What he was, was infected. It gave a painful perspective as to why the younger man had never wanted to share himself with anyone let alone Chris. The person he'd gone out of his way to save, why would he ever want to infect him with his... 'disease?' Piers body was a viral wasteland and he had wanted to spare him from knowing, from really feeling what it was that still rampantly attacked him day to day since their fated encounter with the Haos and its minions. How could he have blamed Piers for that? For wanting people to look at him like he was normal. At least Chris. He knew the others would never see him like the key asset sniper he'd been since day one of joining up with the B.S.A.A.'s S.O.U., four years ago, but at least he'd have his captain. And now... now he didn't even have that. Chris took it from him, because he was jealous. No wonder Piers went to Jake. Jake didn't give a shit about him, that was the point. Find someone he didn't care about so at least he wouldn't be completely heart broken when they treated him like a piece of crap because that's how he felt. Like some piece of garbage, and his captain all but hauled him out to the curb for pick up when he slammed that door in his face. "Piers. Look, I'm sorry." There was silence, nothing but the clicks of routine, ritual break down of the weapon situated in well versed hands, no recognition in the features that occasionally showed from side to side the bag on the side was scooped up and dropped on the table so he could dismantle it in peace. "Did you hear me soldier? I said I'm sorry."

_Clink. _The last pieces of rifle came apart, palms thumping down on the table top in the dead silence while poised, Chris stood waiting for something o be said. Anything. Just watching as Piers back heaved once and then all the chips were down and he turned. Hazel, gold flecked eyes nothing but cold and distant, taking Chris aback, who had tried to stay 'strong.' "Don't say that. Don't say shit you don't mean captain. I'm not a five year old little girl okay? I understand when I need to move on. I was okay with that, alright? I told you when you kissed me that I wasn't going to wait around forever, I I'm not okay? Yeah, I liked you. Maybe it was more than that, or maybe it was just hero worship. I don't care. Don't worry about freeing your guilty mind okay? I absolve you..., please just go."

"Piers-

"No! You know what? I'm not done yet! I was fine! Okay, I could live with myself, with _this_, knowing that you hadn't left me. Everyone else is gone Chris. And then you walked away. So don't tell me you're sorry. Don't try making this about me. Its not. There is no us. There's no more partnership, no more alpha team, no more me and you. Captain and soldier. Screw you okay?! I killed myself for you! And you walked away, _you_! So let me make this easier on both of us and just don't say anything. Just let me walk away, and I won't have to see that look on your face every fucking day for the rest of my career. It's done Chris. We are done!"

Ever since Chris' hand hit the door knob the other day all Chris could think of was regrets. The biggest standing here before him telling he'd lost his chance. Lost everything. No... he couldn't let that happen. All those months ago when he'd woken up from the being swallowed by the pits of Hell, Chris would only think about how he'd lost another partner. He was so use to losing people that when Piers had returned from the dead, it was magic. He never questioned how it had happened, or why, just that for the first time in his life it seemed that God had been looking out for him. Now that he say here in his office, he couldn't help but feel like a fool. Ever since that day he had thought of Piers as invincible. He couldn't be touched, hurt, killed... His partner had survived the damned depths of the Chinese waters, and over came all to come to his side. How could he have ever imagined that Piers hadn't had repercussions from that? How could he think that just because of that, Piers would never leave his side? He wasn't an invincible man, he was in fact, one of the most empathetic he'd ever met. Piers felt everyone's pain, and no one felt his. Sure he knew back before when they'd first become partners that his sniper had had a hero worship crush on him, but how deep it went only became obvious when he'd sacrificed his life for him. It took his death to realize that that _little_ crush was so much more than that, on both sides.

He'd been so selfish. Taking everything from his partner and giving him nothing in return but the occasional pat on the shoulder or ruffle of his hair; and even those things had earned him those perfect smiles. Piers could smile like a fucking dream. The slight curl of his lips, and the way his lids would narrow just the slightest. It was a sad smile. At least now it was. Before this whole thing, seeing Piers smile was like fuel to run on. It was the subtle attempt to hide his happiness even though there was no way to stow the fire in those hazel sharp oculars or the slight muffled tenor with the stifle of laughter. Maybe it was just because Piers was always there for him that he never realized just what it was he had there, but standing there, watching the way his fingers worked the weaponry and the tension in his body, in the space between them. It was impossible to think of anything without him.

All because he couldn't handle shock. Literally. What the hell had he thought would happen? Those electric shocks weren't exactly calm, so what would did he imagine would happen when he jacked up Piers' heart beat that way. At least if that was how it worked. He wasn't delusional... He knew damn well that Piers wasn't the same as he use to be, what was wrong with him, acting that way toward his partner, first having kissed him like that, taken advantage of him, used him and then threw him aside because he was..., shocked. He felt like such an ass. What do you say about it? Yes Piers had lied when he came back to work with Chris, telling him he was fine that he was no longer infected, but rather just had side-effects that wouldn't fade. So he could what? Continue to fight along side his captain. So Piers had wasted away for the last few months, hiding a secret not just from him but from the S.O.U., so that they continue to stay partners, and instead of welcoming him back, seeing him for who and what he was, he took advantage. It was no wonder the sniper had tensed up this way. He sure as hell wouldn't want to see him either. Wonderful way to start this relationship..., but there was no way he was letting him go, not after all this. Not after what had happened. Piers Nivans had another thing coming if he thought he would let him walk away. He was standing there screaming at him, those beautiful emotion filled orbs, mismatched and scarred; so fitting of that perfect person he'd used so damn thoroughly. His perfect person was so destroyed, and he'd done it.

He had to stop this. Reaching out a hand as lightning fast as the charges that surged through the sniper, and took hold of his shoulder, forcing them to close distance together so that he could look down on this person who'd long since deserved to hear what he meant to his captain. Who had for so long a time needed it. He was lean and strong, but in these seconds he didn't seem either of those things. He was broken. And it was Chris' job to pick him up. To put this right. "Piers!"

"WHAT?!"

"... I love you."

* * *

**Who knows what's coming next? Good reaction or Bad?**

**I love those cliff like hangers.**


	10. Chapter 10

Love.

Love?

Once someone says that it can't be put away. You can't claim you haven't said it and even with the outbursts the battles and the internal struggle going on in front of Chris he knew damn well his message had gotten through. Piers had stopped all his struggles completely, just still as a stone carved statue with mismatched orbs reading completely blank, as though the word had shut off his brain and all other functions. He'd expected him to seethe, roar, something like what had happened when he kissed him. Meaningless gestures is what Chris had decided they would be referred to from now on if he couldn't back them up. When their lips had touched that time, what seemed like an eternity ago Piers had taken the day and almost clocked him when he dared to show his face. He deserved that. His visage must have been anything but appealing to behold. It was concern, mingling like bad intercourse with are you going to hit me; where Piers was all blanket stare. Its like someone shut off a switch and his brain broke down. Over load from all the shit that had been thrown at him. Maybe he should have given him space before throwing the revelation at him, some time between the battles to recover, but he hadn't expect absolutely no reaction at all. "Piers? You hear me soldier?" No shit Sherlock, obviously he heard you, what else would have shut down his senses completely like that? Of course this was Chris, and no one could ever boast him to be anything but straight forward. He acted and thrived on split second decisions, like this one. Or laying with Piers. Of course that also had left him vulnerable to making stupid almost mind numbingly so decisions, like walking on the only person who had always been there for him. Rather than wait for the explosion Chris tried to take it as a good sign and instead of letting the sniper recover, he laid it on. Like he should have at the beginning when he finally discovered how he felt.

"I was a royal ass, I know, okay, I know. A goddamn moron. I should have listened to you the first time. I was shocked, obviously, but... That didn't make it right. I shouldn't have said those things, done them. But I knew okay? I knew from day one, that I loved you. It took me longer than you yes, but I knew." he was trying to hold his gaze on Piers but the sniper had finally broken from his stillness with a tiny shake of his head back and forth, blinking repeatedly, but Chris wasn't going to let him go, not again. He was always letting go and doing something stupid, not this time. He didn't let him recover, just kept talking, pouring on his emotions out for the first time in a very long time, trying to get something to seep in to the almost bewildered expression on his partner's face. "I love you. I know, about the infection Piers. It doesn't take a genius, though I should have accepted it earlier than I did. You've never done anything to hurt me and I've thrown countless blows at you. Infected or not, I still love you. Electricity or not." Speak of the devil, he could feel those tiny sparks again nip his fingertips. "Mutation or not, and I might be thick, it might take a long time for me to accept things, but I know, you still have it so don't deny it just hear me out. I don't care, I'll work around it. We'll ge-

"Are you insane!?"

Looks like the shock wore off.

"You... I can't even list the shit you've thrown at me. You are... Love?! Are you..., wha... CHRIS!?" Piers voice hitched, words jumbled. Yanking away his arms, trying to peel away, jerk himself into free space but Chris would have none of it. Even if it meant that he was going to have to get socked in the jaw because of it, the captain didn't relent held fast to him as the shocks sparked up again. He didn't even know what to say, it was clear. He couldn't speak; his face was flush and his body had gone from rigid to frantically pulling away. "You don't understand Chris, I already said it okay! You don't want this, you don't want-

"I _want _you! Only you," Another weak attempt at escape, "Piers stop struggling please, just look at me. Look me in the face." They continued this way for minutes and Chris tried to keep his patience, the patience he was never very well known for as the younger, lithe body lost every ounce of its training. If Piers really wanted to get away from Chris, at least if he had when he was in his right senses he could have done it without trouble. He taught him hand to hand and made sure if there was trouble in a situation like one where Piers was against something even the size of a napad he could at least counter it or push back. In this state however he was nothing more than a child trapped. "Piers stop!" They wrangled with one another for another five minutes until Piers finally threw up his arms and looked away, refusing to meet the captain's eyes, jaw clenched. "Thank you..." For not struggling anymore, for refusing to look at him, Chris was starting to bite his cheek, all he could see his profile, and glossy salty drops coating his silver eye. It was misery seeing him this way, knowing he'd caused it. If he'd only said something prior, if he hadn't walked away. Damn him for walking away. He could make this right though, and he would make him see even though he knew that Piers already knew. It explained his stammering, and fear, and the outrage. If Piers believed Chris was lying, he would have just hit him already.

"I've wasted enough time on you Chris-

"No. You've wasted all your time on me, except its not a waste Piers. You remember. You remember Edonia. Every time I threw myself into the goddamn job so far I would lose myself. Even when people were dying I refused to listen. You were there and you were the only one who would stand up to be. You challenged me. Every step of the way. You always have."

"Because you're a stubborn ass!"

"Exactly! Because I'm a stubborn ass. But you know more than anyone how stubborn I am. You dragged me out of that hell hole, and you saved my life back there. Then you made me go back into it, even when I didn't want to because you were just as stubborn as I am. You knew it was worth it. Its worth it! Love is worth being stubborn for."

"You walked away!"

"I did! But you didn't. You saved me in China again! And you challenged my authority every single step of the way. You got in my face and pushed me. You put yours hands right here on my chest and literally shoved me soldier." Strong hands, wrapped forcefully around slimmer wrists, slamming them up against his own chest and holding them there, in the exact same place where the sniper had once leveraged a shove against those broad pectorals. The action finally breeched all refusals to meet this war head on and Piers' brilliantly colored eyes locked on his own, staring at his hands held against Chris' chest and up again; passed his stubble covered jaw, strong contours and once broken nose (courtesy Albert Wesker), until he'd finally met warm brown eyes. Taking in short shallow breaths he was finally catching his sanity again, examining the truth in those eyes because for the life of both them neither could have lied to save their lives. "You see that? This? We fight, its what we do. Not because we don't mix well, but because we do. We aren't the same as other people Piers. When we fight its because we are perfect together. Because we want what's best for each other so we stand up to one another when we have to, because we love each other. You wouldn't let me go then, you made damn sure I pushed through it in Edonia. In China. Its my turn now, to push you and finally not walk away and see it for myself. You did your part Piers, its my turn now."

"But Chris... Ja-

"Don't!"

He didn't care about Muller. Stupid goddamn sick little child, living with daddy issues from having a mass murdering viral scientist, who didn't hug him enough. If he was Wesker he wouldn't have either with the way he was treating Piers and Sherry. This was what he meant by his turn to be stubborn. Piers shoved him when he'd made his point about Ada Wong, about getting Alpha team killed. It was his turn to show his sniper the bad choice he was making. Jake didn't understand who he was dealing with. It was clear Muller had done something to make the sniper give a rat's ass (gratitude only deserved for bringing him back from the dead), but it didn't matter now. He couldn't have him. No one else could have Piers and he was going to make sure that from now on every single person new it. Starting with the one finally staring him in the eyes, teary and as though he were finally seeing him for the first time. As though Chris was finally seeing him. "You walked away Chris. How was I suppose to... How am I suppose to watch you walk away a thousand times? I'm a soldier, and my orders come from my captain. No one else mattered except you and I because I knew when I pushed, you'd push back. This was different." Lithe, slim fingers wrapped in the fabric of his captain's shirt, sighing and it seemed all fight fled with it, hands shaking for the first time in a long while. As a sniper, those hands were more steady than a surgeon's, but right now without clinging to the navy blue cotton stretched over a taut muscled chest they would have trembled, watching tiny sparks fly. "You walked away from me because I'm infected because you were disgusted. What makes this any different?"

"I didn't walk away because you're infected Piers. You are not disgusting, would I kiss someone I found disgusting? Make love to them?" Brown eyes narrowed, searching those cocktailed eyes that had so much conviction in them before and so little self worth now. "Piers I walked away because I didn't want to know. I knew then, but I didn't want it to be true. Not because I was hurt or unhappy with you; because I was scared for you. I didn't want to think you'd been in that kind of danger for so long and I was stupid enough to pretend you were fine. You needed me Piers, and I was scared because people who need me... they wind up dead. I didn't want that to happen to you. It already had. You killed yourself for me and I couldn't believe I didn't see it all, not until now."

Chris' palms moved away from the backs of younger shaky ones, sliding down muscled arms that reminded him of the strength behind the man. Slim, lithe, and strong as hell. These two arms carried that anti-material rifle on their own, on the run, with deadly accuracy. Held tight to Chris when he'd dangled over the side of the building, one arm clasped where he was on the verge of death and every confidence they would be fine. Stroking down his forearms to his biceps, he could feel the difference in the two. His right more predominant than the left, but just by a hair. Gripping those firm biceps, he admired those arms, up to his shoulders, pulling their bodies flush together. No resistance was met. That slim body fit perfectly in the fold of large arms, tracing his spine, down to his tapered waist that he'd taken advantage of just shortly ago. He should never have done that, but it granted some familiarity holding his sniper. His partner. He could imagine that body so much differently now, in all his B.S.A.A. gear rather than stripped down bare for Chris' hungry brown eyes. He was two different people. A soldier who was strong and unwavering. To a beautiful young man who was scarred by the world he refused to take part of. But Chris didn't want him separated, he wanted them both, and he had him. Cool collected soldier with softer calloused hands holding his captain to him, wordlessly.

They were doing the same things to one another. Feeling each other out. Hands gliding over one another, holding each other to them. Piers was letting Chris. He wasn't saying anything though and that was the uncomfortable thing. Chris wanted to hear approval, say anything... or at least yes. Yes was all he wanted to hear. Jake Muller had ruined a good part of this relationship with his filth. He was nothing, that son of a bitch meant absolutely nothing, what he wanted... what he wanted was to take Piers out of this place and show what he really thought about him. And after that... after that Muller would get what was coming to him. First this, then Jake. He didn't even want Wesker's like satanic spawn child near this conversation. He wanted this to be them, between only them so that it Piers would understand that he meant every word. "You mean something soldier. Everything. You're worth more than what I've given to you. I'm your captain, and its about time I started acting like it instead of running my mouth. I. Love. You."

Love.

Piers stared for a long while. His mind gone along with his sanity for a long while. His body had numbed along with his responses when Chris had uttered those words. He'd expected him to fight with him. Talk about how Jake was the last person who the sniper should be giving himself over to, but instead of everything he had concocted in his brain, nothing prepared him for love. Love wasn't something familiar with soldiers in his line of work. The S.O.U. Alpha unit was basically a death sentence. They didn't have time to think about love. Unless of course you were Piers Nivans and you knew damned well that your love had been given over to a man who would never have you. Everything went into slow motion as soon as the letter 'I' emerged from rough thin lips, demanding his full attention. When 'love' finally made its way into it his mind completely when devoid of all thoughts and emotions. He had no daydreams about his relationship with captain Chris Redfield from the beginning, but yet... just in that moment. Everything seemed so like he might have imagined it..., if he was completely naive and had just come trodding into a Disney animated movie. He wasn't some fairytale princess though, and that's what finally broke his silence and his wandering mind.

His outrage had come only after he had finally seen the light. Chris was spewing non-sense. Even if he believed all that garbage he was saying you can't just 'work around' having an incurable version of a highly contaminating virus. Had he completely lost it? Sure he had... and he tried contesting it too, but instead all he could hear was the sincerity his captain was good for. All the words he'd hoped to hear for the last few years all pooling between them while confessions were made and his balance was lost. His hands didn't start shaking until he started to lose his resolve. When his captain was speaking about how they were meant to be. Meant to be... He wanted to believe that so badly. He couldn't find the will to fight back anymore, just listen while a man he'd known to shut himself off from ever emotion but anger spilled a lifetime's worth of confessions to him. He meant everything? Everything?

Chris didn't understand all aspects of the life the sniper lived after getting taken under the water. He had been left behind, on purpose. Chris' cries had broken his soul and after having destroyed the Haos, the facility around him had exploded. Everyone saw it, the force of the explosion was strong enough to surge the escape pod of his commanding officer, up into the air, cushioned when it crashed back into the rough waters. Unconsciousness hadn't been so kind to Piers...

* * *

_The water crushed around Piers in an instant. Watching the creature known as Haos hunt his captain even in death was his dying act. To kill it. The integrity of the building had been compromised and it strained beneath the wait of the Chinese black waters. Launching the electricity into the water, bolts surging through the currants and capturing the beast in its own skin... he knew it would destroy the facility. Better to die in an explosion than slowly drown. However, he hadn't anticipated that using the 'gift' that the C-virus had bestowed upon him, made it all the more one with his cellular level. Upon releasing that electric wave his flesh tore and pain overtook his being. His chest and back tore apart in pieces as the c-virus molded him into a kind of being it could be proud of. The appendage sustained the massive damage, blood filling he waters around him that crushed in around him. Him alone. But at least Chris was safe. That was all that mattered then. His screams went muted as oxygen bubbled form between his lips, water having encompassed him as his body felt every nerve on fire of pain, every millisecond that passed allowing the mutation of dark slick flesh to replace his own along his ribs, back, chest, creeping along his neck and leg until the explosion._

_He'd seen the cocoon that had encompassed Haos before it loosed. The stiffness of this new 'flesh' was something he imagined to appear in the same fashion as water crushed his lungs and they too were replaced by the grey sickening fluids. His body was overtaken by the virus and the world went dark for what seemed like forever. Unconsciousness hadn't come... just silence. His body burned, a torch lit inside his gut and burning away what was left of his old self. He had to think, concentrate. He had done the right thing. He'd saved his captain. Why couldn't it just let him die? Destroyed limbs and organs, body parts that the explosion had taken from him were reformed in greyed horrible, slick and sticky tissue, pulsing like the thick electrified appendage that hugged his insides to him. He was being remade in it's image. Chris would come back for him someday..., and he would be the one. He would kill whatever this thing had turned him to, and he felt his mind go numb at long last as what remained of his body burned away.  
_

_The cocoon cracked and opened, unaware of how long it had been or even who he was. Until light hit the silver of his eyes, Chris' visage before his eyes._

_That had all been... until it wasn't Chris. It was Jake who found Piers. How dealt with what he had turned into. It took three weeks before he would believe he was still alive and even then. No one had seen what he'd become except for Muller. Jake had battled with the creature Piers had become for close to two months. Hand to hand, restraining, whatever it took to keep the mutation he'd become at bay. No Sherry, no Chris. Jake had come back for him. It took much longer to understand it. To understand anything. Jake continued to tell him through the endless hours of battling that he wasn't a monster, that Piers had saved him. Saved Sherry. It was because he'd saved Sherry that Jake came to find him. He never told Piers how long he had been a creature until he'd reverted back to himself. His mind was never completely gone, at least that's what Muller said. That it just needed aid. But he would never be the same. That this body of his wasn't, no matter how much he wanted, human. He was a reconstructed version of himself. That's when he'd broken. When Piers discovered he wasn't him, he was exactly what he'd fought being from day one._

* * *

Chris would never know what had happened between Jake and Piers, but like this staring at him... he didn't want him to. Somewhere along the lines Jake had turned into the monster. Staring at Chris now he knew he wanted to believe that he could love him. But then, Chris didn't know. He couldn't know. His worst thoughts were that Piers was simply infected, that his arm was still mutated and his body was and mind were still his own. Worst case scenario for Chris wasn't the half of what Piers could and had become. Holding him like his, he could feel his body under his skin shift just from the thoughts swimming in his head. Jake cared because he cared about Sherry. That's what it came down to. He didn't love Piers, he never would. He came to act that way because in all honesty he hated Piers. He wanted their relationship over. There wasn't one and he didn't want it to continue but they knew so long as Piers was this thing, he needed an outlet, one that wouldn't infect others if he was going to keep this charade for Sherry that he saved Piers, who had saved the world from Haos. And Piers needed it to continue to function. That was until those words came out of Chris' mouth. Love. Could he really let Chris' love come second? He'd done all of this, become this... thing, for this man. It would free Jake, but confine him. So why was it so hard to say anything as those experienced older hands manipulated him holding him? Waiting for an answer. No... mutation, infection, lifestyle aside... no. All of that aside. He'd lived to hear those words from Chris. Fuck everything else.

"Captain, my captain."

"I will never turn away from you Piers, never. No matter he consequences, no matter what fear of concern dictates. I will always be here. I swear it, I love you."

"I love you too Chris."

* * *

**I was intending on posting this yesterday, but I fell asleep. So sorry about that guys. Anyway! I may or may not do a sequel to this depending on the response, but YES that i the finish. For the Jake fans out there... if I have enough time and requests, I'll write the PiersXJake Prequel however!  
**

**FIN!**


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